Not Just Pain and Anger
by magical-notes
Summary: After the events of First Class, Erik and Charles' lives continue to intertwine, and they attempt to stay together despite being on opposite sides. Erik/Charles, Hank/Alex, multiple other pairings.
1. I Would Have Waited

_November 5__th__, 1962_

Charles offered Alex a smile as the teen stopped his chair in the same place as he had for the past few days, "Thank you, Alex. I'll let you know when I need you to come fetch me."

The blond hesitated, "I don't like leaving you here, Professor."

"I'm fine, Alex. Go on back and see that the others are doing alright."

The teen almost protested, but finally nodded and left as his teacher turned his attention to setting up the marble chess set he had brought. Once the chessmen were in place, Charles leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and "listening" for the familiar aura.

He'd meant to just be passing through, Erik told himself, looking around the park. Passing through the town on his way somewhere else. Except that "passing through" did not require him to go through this particular park, and certainly not on foot.

Alright, maybe he could admit somewhere deep in his chest that he missed Charles. That he was taking another look around the place before, hopefully, finally moving on. Closure was good for things like that, wasn't it?

Only, as he strode through the park with the sun beating down on him from above, he stopped short when he saw Charles sitting alone behind a chessboard, exactly where they had usually played. He blinked, shaking his head quickly to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him.

Charles opened his eyes, looking directly at Erik. He had been so hopeful that the other would come, but at the same time doubting he ever would. He offered him a smile, though it didn't fully reach his eyes, "Good afternoon, my friend."

Finally Erik took a step forward, his eyes flickering down to the chess board. "Are you playing with someone?" he asked, shocked enough that he wasn't registering the rest of his surroundings yet. If someone was going to spring the perfect trap for him, all they would have to do was bait it with Charles. But somehow he still trusted the other enough to not suspect this at least of being a trap.

Charles shook his head, "No. Actually, I was waiting for you." He looked up at the man before him, his blue eyes taking in every attribute, every change in the familiar face. God, this was harder than he'd expected. "Join me?"

For another long moment, the German just looked at him. "You could have been waiting a very long time then, Charles," he said, sitting and looking the other over as well. His mind finally registered the wheel chair. "Have you not fully healed yet?" He couldn't quite bring himself to refer to Charles as old friend yet, though he wanted to.

"Well, then I would have waited, Erik." The young professor looked down at the chair he was seated in, trying to find a way to answer the question posed to him, "No. Not yet."

"And if I had never come?" Erik asked, considering the board in front of him. His eyes flickered back up and he considered the chair again, probing it. It was a very solidly constructed chair for being temporary, and it even looked like something Hank had had a hand in. A terrible thought twisted its way into his mind but he didn't want to allow it to light yet.

Charles leaned forward, twining his fingers and resting his chin on them, "You would have eventually." He dropped his gaze from where he was studying Erik's face again to the chessboard, "Your start, I think."

That at least put Erik back on more familiar territory, and he moved the first chess piece out. "You put a lot of faith in me."

"Well, you've not proven me wrong," he replied simply as he moved one of his pawns. "There's always some hope, after all, my friend."

Erik didn't remove his eyes from the board. "Well, do you have any idea what your recovery will look like then?" he asked, backing away hard from topics of letting people down or hope.

Charles allowed him the change in subjects, though the one chosen was not one he wished to discuss, "The doctors say it could take quite some time, but I have confidence that it'll work out in the end." He paused for a long moment, "How is Raven settling in?"

"That is a very vague answer, Charles," Erik remarked, moving another piece out. "She's settling well enough. She misses you and Hank sometimes, but... well, she's found others to attach herself to."

"I...well, I don't know if I can say I'm glad quite yet, but I do wish her well." He considered his next move, shifting the piece, "And how...how are you?"

"I'll tell her," Erik replied and paused for a long moment, letting the silence stretch past his next move. "I suppose I am the same as I have been."

"I'm not certain that's an answer, Erik," Charles' tone held the hint of a smile in it as he surveyed the board and finally moved a piece.

"I'm not sure you actually gave me an answer about your injuries either," Erik said. "Besides, you should well know what I have been like." Except of course, it had been different during his time with Charles, so maybe the other didn't know. But he had been in his memories, and that should have been answer enough.

Charles sighed, "If I tell you honestly what the doctors say, you have to do me the same courtesy with my questions, agreed?"

"I was being honest," he protested, but after a pause nodded. "I will be."

The telepath sighed, "They say that I _might_ walk again, but none of them think I will. Oh they're careful not to say as much, most of the time, but even without skimming I can tell."

Erik's hand froze over the piece he was about to move and his eyes tracked up to the other, before giving the wheelchair another look over. "You don't seem to think you'll be able to walk again either," he said softly, giving the chair his full attention for a moment, focusing on that other than the rolling feeling in his stomach.

"I don't think I will for quite some time, but I fully intend to walk again. Henry wished to help, and the chairs that could be found caused more pain than they were worth. Besides, this has better maneuverability." Charles brushed a bit of dirt off of the table, "I'll be alright, Erik. I'll adapt, we've been doing so for so long it's ingrained in us."

Those words did nothing to actually soothe the other, but he managed to move the piece he had been planning on earlier.

It was a long moment before Charles finally turned his attention to the board again, "I'm sorry, my friend."

"_You're_ sorry?" the German asked in sudden disbelief.

He moved a piece before finally looking up, nodding very slightly, "I'm sorry you went through what you did, I'm sorry it came to this, but more than anything I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to help you."

A small metal spoke on the chair twisted and Erik clamped down on his emotions. "What you may have never accepted fully, Charles, is that I may not have needed your help," he said before his eyes flickered back over. "Though I may have wanted it once."

Drawing a deep breath, Charles' jaw tensed very slightly, "That is not how I meant that, Erik." He sighed, consciously relaxing, "I just wanted to help you heal. If only a little."

Erik moved another piece before looking up. "And look where that got you," he glanced down again to where he might have seen Charles' legs if the table wasn't in the way.

"The two are not connected. This was an accident, Erik. It was no one's fault," he looked up from the board, studying the other man's features again.

"I well believe that knocking a metal bullet into someone's back is very much that person's fault," Erik replied, voice completely even.

"Why..." Charles bit off the question, moving a chess piece as he tried to formulate a response to that which would have the lowest probability of the other leaving.

"Why what?"

"Why must you hold on to this, Erik? I don't understand."

"You don't understand that I'm holding onto the fact I all but shot you in the back?" Erik remarked, voice still bland and emotionless. His eyes were something different however.

"No. That I understand. I don't understand why you blame yourself. I don't. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, Erik." Charles couldn't meet the other's eyes—the emotions that were roiling around them were more than enough for him to have to sort through.

"Most people aren't as forgiving as you are, Charles," he replied, moving his queen across the board. "Especially, if not more so, of themselves."

"But..." He sighed, knowing he wasn't going to win this one.

"It's not like you to give up on an argument, old friend," Erik said, finally meeting his eyes. "And... I am sorry."

A small smile graced Charles' face, "I know only one or two people who are more stubborn than I am, and you are one of them, Erik." He moved another piece before responding to the last part, "I forgave you when it happened, my friend, but if you need to hear it, then I forgive you, Erik. A thousand times over."

"Have you considered you shouldn't?" Erik asked, though he couldn't help but return the small smile with a faint one of his own, moving another piece.

"Give up the argument? A couple of times." He moved a rook.

Erik gave him an unimpressed look. "That's not what I..." he bit the rest of the sentence off, and shook his head, smiling faintly.

Charles' smile widened at that, but he shook his head, "No, Erik. I haven't considered that. I can't."

"I did horrible things to you that day, some of which I didn't even register," Erik protested weakly.

"I.." He looked down, picking at a piece of lint on his sleeve, "that's true. But you didn't know. Some of them took longer than others, but I do forgive you, and I have forgiven you." _Of almost everything._ The only thing Charles couldn't seem to let go of was that damned helmet.

Of all the things Erik had done, cutting him completely off had been what he couldn't seem to get past. It was a small thing when one stepped back and looked at it, small in comparison to causing the loss of his legs, or the agony of Shaw's death, but to be completely cut off from someone whose mind had become so familiar, to find only static there, it had been frightening. A psychic evidence of a distrust he didn't even know existed.

A helmet that at least today Erik was not wearing. "Which took the longest?" he asked, mildly, as he moved another piece.

Charles considered how honest he could be about that, and which answer to give. One hadn't been forgiven, but others... He moved a piece, "Leaving like you did."

Erik paused for a long moment, and he bowed his head slightly, as if accepting a blow. "You didn't want to come with me, though," he said, sounding almost petulant. "And I did not believe I could stay."

Another piece moved and Erik continued. "Charles, I may not be the telepath, but I've been in your mind enough to know you better than any human could hope to. There's something else, isn't there?"

The other man sighed, "It wasn't that you left, Erik. As much as I wish you had stayed we both know that wasn't possible then. It was that you never took that horrible _thing_ off your head." He moved another piece absently, not really paying much attention to the board, "You didn't let me say goodbye."

Erik looked down, and blinked at the board. Either Charles was luring him into a trap or he was too distracted to realize the move he'd just made. The second thought made Erik's stomach hurt again. "Maybe I did not want to say goodbye," he answered faintly, not taking advantage of Charles' slip. His eyes tracked back up again.

"So you just made the decision executively? Erik, I...I wouldn't have stopped you going, even if I wanted to. You made your choice, I wouldn't stan-" he changed the wording, "stop you from doing what you wished. Do you honestly trust me so little?" Charles managed to keep his tone even, but he couldn't seem to meet Erik's eyes, knowing how much emotion would be seen in his own gaze.

Erik continued to look at him, even if he couldn't see his eyes. "Yes," he said finally. "Goodbye... Would have been too final, like I wouldn't see you again. Even if... I had perhaps not expected to see you today, I never intended to hide from you forever. I never actually want to be your enemy."

Charles finally raised his eyes to meet Erik's again, "I don't wish to be yours either, Erik. I just...I was so cut off. I didn't know what to do. And you weren't there."

For a long moment the taller German didn't respond. He raised a hand slightly to the side of his head, as if remembering the weight of the helmet. "I wasn't thinking," he said softly. "In so many ways. Charles, I..."

"I...I know. It still hurt, Erik. Nothing will change that, but I do forgive you for it. I just..." He shook his head.

"You just?" Erik asked softly, preferring to let the other speak than to try and explain any of his roiling emotions.

"I've missed you. I've wanted to see you. To hear you. To talk to you. But I haven't known where you were, or how to even consider reaching you."

Erik took a breath. "Charles I..." he shook his head slightly, "I've missed you too, old friend." There was another pause. "I cannot promise you that you will always be able to reach me, or that we will always be able to meet but, I can give you the means. For when they are working."

Charles hesitated for a moment at that before nodding, "I...please, Erik."

The taller nodded. "I shall try," he said. "To make it easier. I should never have done any of those things to you."

"Erik, you didn't realize what you were doing," the telepath protested again.

"I realized I was walking away from you," he replied softly. "I did realize I was leaving you. Taking your sister with me."

"I...that was her decision to leave with you, my friend."

"It was still my decision to leave," Erik said and shook his head. Sometimes he could not help but wonder what would have happened if he stayed. But it was twenty beyond years for there to have been any chance of that.

Charles sighed, "Yes. It was, but you needn't take the blame for her leaving as well. You carry so much guilt, Erik, and so little of it is yours to bear."

Finally, Erik moved another piece rather than look at the other. "Check," he murmured.

Charles blinked at that, not recalling opening himself up for that. He moved his king out of danger.

Erik focused on the game for another moment. "Will you be here tomorrow?" he asked softly.

"I...I can be, yes."

"Good," Erik said, making another move. "I will see about some sort of communication then."

Charles offered him a slight smile at that, "Wonderful." He moved another of his chessmen.

Erik found himself responding to the smile, even as his piece advanced across the board. "How... are the others?" he asked softly.

"They...are doing well enough. Alex's control is almost perfect-though Hank had to replace the adapter. Sean's practicing without being pushed off of high objects. Honestly my greatest concern is Hank. He's finally coming to terms with his changes, but...I'm not sure how well."

Erik bit back the response that Hank should be proud, but he nodded. "Maybe Sean needs to be pushed off high things every once and a while."

"Sean is doing quite well of his own volition." Charles moved one of his knights.

"I'm sure," Erik murmured, smiling. Though it slipped when he thought what things could have been like, once again, if he had been able to stay. Maybe push Sean off things every once and a while for old time's sake. It disturbed him how much he'd learned to care for all the other mutants in their time together.

"And how are you getting on with your lot?"

Erik's grip tightened on the piece he was moving. "We'll settle," he said finally.

Charles' brow arched, but he nodded slightly, "I see."

Erik shrugged. "They aren't like... yours." He wanted for a moment to say "ours" and that hurt.

"No. They aren't. For one, they've more training, and for two they're more ruthless."

"That's what they need," Erik replied, voice a little sharp.

Charles looked down at the board, sighing, "Erik..."

"Yes, Charles?"

He shook his head, "Never mind. I've overstepped again."

"It is a habit you have," Erik said, smiling fondly. "What is it?"

"I don't want to have this argument now, Erik. Not today."

"Alright," Erik said softly, moving another piece. "Checkmate, Charles."

Charles blinked at that, studying the board before knocking his king over, "A good match, my friend."

"Perhaps you can try your luck tomorrow," Erik said softly, rising.

"Perhaps so. Good day, Erik."

Erik stopped a moment, planting both his hands on the table the board was set on, and leaned down, capturing Charles' mouth with his own abruptly

Charles startled at that, but after a brief hesitation he leaned up into the kiss as much as he could, reaching out with his gift and clouding the sight of those passing by.

Erik leaned down further when Charles responded, trusting the other to protect them for the moment.

Charles' hand moved up to rest on Erik's cheek, his thumb tracing over the other man's cheekbone.

The other's breath stuttered for a moment at the contact, and after several more moments, he finally pulled away, resting his forehead against Charles'.

The telepath offered him a gentle smile, _"Oh, Erik..."_

"Charles," he replied softly.

"I love you." The words were murmured, echoing mentally as well.

Erik's eyes widened and he let out a very long breath. "Oh Charles, you're wasted on me..."

Charles couldn't help the quiet laugh that came in response to that, "We never will see eye-to-eye will we?"

"I suppose not," he said softly. "But then again I am..." _taller than you_ he stuttered out on, realizing that now everyone was taller than Charles. "But then again we don't really need to. And then again I..." a breath. "Love you too," he said, nuzzling their faces together slightly.

"You're not that much taller than I am, Erik," Charles replied with a soft smile. He leaned up enough to kiss the other man again.

Erik let out a snort, but didn't correct Charles, and leaned into the kiss instead, shifting around the table and kneeling down in front of Charles, so his neck was the one straining up more.

Charles twined his fingers in Erik's hair, unwilling to let the other go.

His hands coming up to rest on the arm rests of the chair, Erik titled his head further. He'd had business that he really had meant to take care of but... Charles did always seem to manage to derail his plans.

Charles finally broke away, his hand moving to rest on Erik's cheek again, "I should let you go..."

The German made a strangled noise of protest. "They weren't pressing plans," he murmured, kissing Charles' cheek.

Charles smiled softly, "No, I'm sure they weren't, but Alex just pulled into the park. He'll be here momentarily."

Erik growled softly and with another quick kiss finally rose. "I'll be here tomorrow," he said softly.

The telepath managed to bite back a soft sound of protest as the other man rose. He smiled softly, "I'll see you then. Take care, Erik."

Offering him something between a smirk and a smile, Erik tailed a hand across Charles' shoulders as he strode away.

Charles closed his eyes, feeling Erik leave the park. He smiled softly, content in knowing that this time he could do so with the confidence of seeing the other again.

* * *

><p>Hello, All. A word from your authors regarding the update status of this one. We were expecting this to be a one-shot as we're in the midst of a larger project at the moment, but the characters have insisted on a longer work. This will be slowly updated, but the updates will have good-sized spaces of time between them.<p>

Hope you enjoy, feel free to drop us a review to let us know what you thought.

Author's Note as of Oct 2011, or just about Chapter 25: As we said originally, this story was supposed to be a one shot. We've clearly progressed quite a ways from that original plan, and this story has grown in scope and ambition since then. Originally this was solely a story about Erik and Charles. Since then, it's become quite a bit more, and there are many side characters, and we have quite a few side pairings as well. This story is time-lined out quite far at this point, and sometimes Erik and Charles settle into a holding pattern and other characters take the spot light. At it's heart Erik and Charles are the thread holding this entire story together, but they are not the only pairing or characters. Basically, this has turned into re-writing comics cannon to connect First Class to the other X-Men movies, while shipping various peoples together. We hope you continue to enjoy this story, but those who are entering with only expectations of Erik and Charles will find this is not the only case.


	2. We Work With What We Have

_November 6__th__, 1962_

The next day found Erik in the park, grey fedora tipped over his eyes and a newspaper up, several benches away from where their chessboard had been set up the day before.

Charles scanned the park as Alex rolled his chair over to the normal spot. He thanked the boy and sent him back. He'd been getting better at ignoring protests. Once the teen had left, Charles rolled away from the table, turning his chair enough to face Erik, _Am I joining you there or are you coming over here?_

Grinning, Erik folded the newspaper down and rose, striding over. "Good day, Charles."

Charles offered him a gentle smile, "Good day, Erik. It's good to see you."

"And you," Erik replied, folding gracefully into the chair. He couldn't help but pause at that, unsure of where to go.

Charles rested his hand on the bag he carried, "A game, old friend?"

"Certainly," Erik replied. "How are you today then?"

"Doing well," he answered as he began setting up the chessboard, "have a few tests to run this evening. How are you?"

"As I always have been," he replied, taking some of his pieces and setting them up. "What sort of tests?"

"Am I ever going to get a straight answer out of you when I ask that question?"

_No_ "Perhaps."

Charles arched an eyebrow, sitting back after finishing setting his pieces, "Fair enough."

"I don't want to bring that up here," he said softly.

"Do you have some place _to_ bring it up?" Charles returned quietly.

"Do I need to?"

"It will only eat you up inside if you don't, Erik. You know this."

"There is nothing to eat me up, Charles," he replied. "I made a decision and I am hardly backing down from it, even if there are unfortunate side effects."

"Then why avoid my questions?"

Erik stopped to stare at him for a moment. "Because one of those unfortunate side effects is how much I miss you," he replied softly.

The telepath blinked for a moment at that before looking down, "I see."

Glancing at him, Erik moved the first piece out.

Charles turned his attention to the game, moving one of his pieces as he considered if there was anything he felt like talking about at the moment. Answering Erik's question was not high on that list.

"Since we don't seem to have the same type of permanent base set up," Erik said after another move. "Communication is going to be hard. I still know where to find you and contact you but... somehow I don't believe that would be terribly reassuring to you."

Charles considered, "If you're within the radius of my gift I should be able to reach you. As long as you're not wearing that helmet..."

"It's not like I can sleep in it," Erik replied, in what was meant to be a joke. He paused again. "But that still puts the limits of communication in my hands."

"It does, but I can't see a way around that," he moved another piece.

"Can you, are you alright with that?" Erik asked, moving a piece.

"I..." Charles wasn't entirely sure about that, he wasn't certain he trusted Erik not to cut him off again, but he nodded. "Yes. I am."

For a long moment Erik just looked at him. "I don't intend to cut you out again," he said softly.

The telepath looked at him for a long moment before smiling and shaking his head, "And here I thought I was supposed to be the mind reader." He moved another piece.

"I'm not," Erik replied. "But I know you well."

"The answer is still yes, Erik. Whether I'm worried about being cut off or not."

"Well," Erik looked over the board again. "You said you were running some tests?"

"Hm? Oh, yes I did, didn't I?"

"What on? Or is that a matter of security now?"

"Security? How do you mean, Erik?"

"Well, I suppose there are things we aren't supposed to tell each other now," Erik replied, a piece moving across the board. "Is this one of them or are you avoiding it for another reason?"

Charles considered that for a long moment, "I can't think of much that I could tell you that you don't already know."

"So you're avoiding it for another reason then."

He dropped his gaze to the board, considering his next move and making it before finally answering the original question, "Hank and I are seeing if there's any possibility of there still being feeling in my legs."

The German didn't respond for a long moment. "So, there is none now?"

"Well, the doctor's couldn't find any, but they also don't have some of the machines Hank's been working on." Charles kept his tone even, borderlining forcibly light.

"You didn't tell me it was that bad," Erik said, voice low.

"I didn't see that it really mattered. I intend to regain feeling and I intend to walk again. The one leads to the other."

"You _intend_ to. Charles, the world doesn't actually conform to you."

The young professor's expression darkened, "That has been made abundantly clear to me, Erik, but I reserve the right to be optimistic when it comes to certain things."

The German paused, his hand over a piece. His own guilt over the matter felt like it was going to strangle him, and he'd been insensitive, again, too caught up in his own feelings. "Yes. Of course."

Charles closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, and sighed, "I'm sorry, my friend."

"You don't have much to be sorry for," Erik replied.

"Which implies that I do have something to be sorry for," he opened his eyes again, offering Erik a faint smile.

"Perhaps. But not enough to actually apologize for."

"There's a quota to reach now?"

The taller chuckled and shook his head. "No. Perhaps not. But I would still prefer you not apologize to me."

Charles thought about that for a long moment and then shook his head very slightly, "I don't know if I can do that, Erik."

"Oh?" he asked, arching a brow.

"It's something that comes naturally to me, apologizing I mean. I will try, but I cannot guarantee that I won't now and again."

Erik smiled at that. "Well, if you slip up now and then, I suppose that is forgivable."

Charles returned the smile and rested his chin on his hand, "Good to know."

Erik moved again, glancing over at the other. "Do you think the tests will work?"

"I honestly don't know. I hope so."

"Charles, if there's ever anything you need that I can find for you, or get for you..."

The telepath moved a knight, "I know, thank you, my friend."

Erik countered with a Bishop. "Is there anything you need?"

"Not that I can think of at the moment, if I do think of anything I will let you know."

"Please do so," Erik replied. "I..." _Feel more than guilty and would like to help._

Charles moved another piece, sighing, _You needn't._

Erik glanced up again. "I'm not going to get used to that," he murmured. "And maybe I needed, but I would like to."

"Very well. I..." He fell silent, nodding.

"You?" Erik prompted fondly. "Remember, I can't read your mind."

"I...I do have one favor to ask of you."

"Yes, Charles?" He'd almost wanted to say 'anything' but knew he couldn't promise that.

"Watch out for Raven for me? I can't be there for her anymore, but...well, she's still my sister."

"Of course, Charles. I'll look after her. I never planned to do anything else."

"Thank you, Erik."

"What else did you expect me to do?" Erik asked.

He shrugged, "I don't know, I just figured I'd ask. You have other things to concern yourself with besides Raven, after all."

"Perhaps. But she chose to come with me, and I'd like to be able to honor that choice rather than make her regret it."

Charles managed not to frown, settling for nodding instead, "Very well."

"She does miss you. Did I tell you that yesterday? But she is a competent woman who I think can succeed at anything she wishes."

"I don't believe you did mention that," he smiled softly, "I'm glad to hear you think so as well."

"She will be amazing someday. She already is, she just... needs more time. I am glad at least to have her, though I regret she came with me under those circumstances." Now that he was away from the pain and the hurt of the moment that was.

"Glad to have her? Not getting on with the others then?"

Erik's eyes narrowed and finally he nodded. "No, not quite as much as one might have hoped."

"Well, it's to be expected, Erik."

Erik looked away. "Well, I killed their leader and ran away... There is some tension."

"On the other hand they did voluntarily go with you."

"Which is why I believe there are no knives in my bed."

"Not that they'd be able to get something like that past you."

"No," he replied with a grin. "It would be rather difficult. But the sentiment... people are amazingly inventive when they wish to do someone harm."

Charles looked at him for a long moment, sighing again, "Erik..."

The taller paused at that, tapping a finger against the piece he was going to move. "Yes, Charles?"

"Never mind…" he looked down, brushing lint off of his slacks.

"If I don't want to?"

He considered for another moment, "I wish you weren't so blasé about it."

"About their violent tendencies or mine?"

Charles drew back at that, "I was thinking theirs."

"It's the choice I made, Charles. To put myself there, to lead a war you don't want to fight. It is the world I live in."

"Then answer me this, Erik: how do you fight a war with the intention of winning, when you can't trust your allies?"

"The optimal response would be to find new ones but... we work with what we have."

"I don't like it."

Erik arched a brow at that. "Concerned for my safety, old friend?"

"Concerned for your sanity, Erik."

For a long moment, Erik considered him before smiling. "Well, I have you to make sure my mind remains in check, don't I?"

Charles sighed, biting back the first comment that came to mind and settling for smiling in return and shrugging, "I suppose you do at that."

"We never are going to agree on methods, Charles, but that doesn't change what we are."

"And what are we, Erik?"

"Friends, at least."

Charles managed to keep his smile in place as he nodded, "Very true." He sighed, "Though I would like to correct you, it's not your methods I disagree with this time-though I do disagree with them."

"My allies then. It almost amounts to the same thing."

"Your methods _might_ get you killed, your allies _probably_ will. You're working with Shaw's people, including, unless I'm very much mistaken, his telepath."

Erik gave him a long look. "Yes. But that's what I have the helmet for after all."

"So you wear it all the time now? That must get rather uncomfortable."

Erik's eyes strayed to Charles' wheelchair. "It's amazing the things we adjust to."

Charles tensed at that, "Right, I suppose that's true. It's astonishing what our bodies can withstand."

"Or our minds, or our hearts," Erik replied. "But we are creatures of adaptation."

"Mhm. Very true, constantly adapting, becoming better suited to our environment."

Erik nodded, moving another piece. "Check, Charles."

Charles returned his attention to the board, capturing the offending piece.

"You seem more focused today," Erik remarked.

"Was I unfocused yesterday?"

"Enough," Erik replied.

"Well, I admit I was rather surprised to see you."

"You tried to say you weren't," Erik said, moving his queen.

"I was expecting you at some point, but it wasn't really yesterday," he considered the board before moving a rook, "Check."

Erik knocked the rook out of the game. "Then why did you come?"

"Because I hoped you would."

"You can't live off hope," Erik said. "Though, perhaps this once I'm glad you did."

"I've been doing pretty well living off of it so far."

Erik's eyes darted for the wheelchair for a moment and he looked away again. "Perhaps so."

Charles caught the glance, but moved another piece before speaking again, "Sometimes hope is all one has."

Erik looked over at him again, reaching a single hand forward to cover one of Charles', though the other hand moved a countering piece.

The young professor startled very slightly at the touch, but offered Erik a faint smile, turning his hand over so their palms were touching. He moved another piece, his gaze returning to Erik.

Erik glanced around and tightened his grip slightly. "I'm sorry."

"Wh-what? Erik, we've been over this. I forgive you."

"Still," he said, shaking his head.

Charles concentrated on any minds in the vicinity before taking Erik's hand in both of his, tracing the knuckles, "I'm alright, Erik."

Erik glanced around and back at Charles, arching a brow slightly. "You know, we might as well consider meeting somewhere private at some point. It would strain you less."

"Until I had to explain why I was meeting someone somewhere else to whoever was driving me."

"Not inclined to tell the truth then Charles? It's not like I don't know where you are."

"It's not you I'm worried about, Erik. Alex still isn't exceptionally pleased with anyone in your group, and he tends to be the one who does the driving."

"Alex is remarkably bitter," Erik replied. "And perhaps I..." He'd meant it wouldn't be hard to return to the mansion, but he didn't actually want to bring it up first.

Charles considered that for a long moment, meeting Erik's eyes, "Are you sure that would be a good idea?"

"No, not entirely."

"It is a possibility though. It would be easier to block the three of them if need be than an entire park."

Erik glanced down at where their hands were still touching, gently stroking Charles' palm. "I won't come unless invited, Charles."

He drew a deep breath, "Then do come, please."

"Alright," he said. "I'll come when you call."

Charles offered him a gentle smile, "Thank you, Erik."

Erik glanced back at the board, moving a piece but not his hand. "Of course, old friend."

Charles considered the board, moving another piece, "Check."

Erik removed the offending piece.

Charles moved again, glancing up at the sound of a clock chiming.

Erik followed his gaze, moving another piece. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, just trying to recall what time I told Alex to return."

"Hm, do you recall?"

He shook his head, "It wasn't soon though, I don't think." He moved another piece.

"Check," Erik remarked, moving his piece in retaliation.

Charles moved his king out of danger.

Erik smiled at that, playing his next move in silence, just enjoying the sunlight of the park and the feel of Charles' hand in his.

Charles moved another piece, "I believe that's mate, my friend."

"So it is," Erik replied, good naturedly.

Charles raised Erik's hand, kissing the knuckle, "Thank you for coming today."

"Of course, old friend," he replied, smiling.

Charles lowered their joined hands so he could trace the lines in Erik's again. He looked up, briefly startled.

Erik arched a brow at that. "Charles?"

"Alex," he replied, drawing back.

The teen approached from slightly behind Erik, "Hello, Professor, sorry I'm late. I-" he broke off at the sight of Erik, his entire being tensing.

"Oh," Erik said, looking up at the teen.

"What's he doing here?"

Charles wet his lips, "Alex..."

"Don't," he cut the telepath off. "Just, don't."

"You asked him what I was doing here, you might as well let him give an answer," Erik replied mildly.

Alex narrowed his eyes, "I didn't ask you."

"We were playing a game of chess, Alex. That's all."

"Chess? With him?"

"I'm not an infectious disease," Erik said, just as mildly. "You don't have to make it sound like I am."

"...Right. You ready to go, Professor?"

"Give me time to pack up the chess set. I will meet you at the car."

Erik looked between the pair.

Alex shook his head, not saying anything aloud, but Charles gave him a sharp look, "Alexander, go wait in the car."

"I just don't get it. I don't get why you'd do this."

Erik's eyes narrowed slightly but he didn't actually say anything, figuring Alex already had more than enough fuel against him.

"Alex..." Charles started returning the chessmen to their case.

"No, I mean it. He left. Walked out with the people who'd been trying to kill us not what, 10, maybe fifteen minutes before and he damn well put you in that chair!"

_Alexander Summers, that is enough!_ Charles' voice echoed mentally in both Alex and Erik's heads, his focus for speaking to only one mind disabled by his emotions, his blue eyes cold. "Return to the car. Don't make me force you to."

Alex scowled at him, but retreated.

Erik turned his gaze back to him. "Are you alright, Charles?"

Charles watched Alex go, his jaw tense, but he nodded, "I'm fine."

"Are you?" Erik asked, darting a gaze after Alex and back to Charles. "Because I heard that too, when you yelled at him."

"I will be. I just need time to calm my mind."

Erik reached out to touch his hand again. "If you're sure."

Charles offered him a faint smile, "I am. Are you up for seeing me to the car?"

"If Alex won't attempt to attack me on sight, I believe I shall be able to manage," he replied.

"He won't." Charles slid the chess case into the bag he carried, "Shall we?"

Erik rose, thought it strange that Charles' couldn't do the same and nodded.

Charles rolled the chair back from the table a bit, "Thank you, Erik."

Erik looked at him for a moment before stepping behind the wheelchair and pushing it forward, feeling infinitely odd.

The telepath tilted his head back enough to look up at Erik, _I'll let you know when it's cooled down enough for you to come, hm?_ "If you're still alright with that of course..."

"I am," Erik replied.

"I am sorry about Alex."

"He's protective. You seem to arouse that in people."

"He's also bitter, and angry, and violent, and can't always control his gift. I'm not certain it's a good mix."

Erik looked down at him. "No, it most certainly is not. But he'll learn. He still has that chance."

"Are you saying some don't?"

"Maybe," he replied. "Maybe not. At any rate, here you are."

Charles sighed, offering Erik a faint smile, "Thank you. Take care, Erik."

"You too," he murmured, glancing up at Alex and stepping back.

Alex leaned against the car, waiting for Erik to leave before he helped Charles into the car and headed back to the mansion.

* * *

><p>We wanted to thank all of you for your reviews, favorites and alerts. We weren't expecting such a strong response, thank you.<p>

Belated Disclaimer: You recognize it, it's not ours.


	3. This Is Going To Call For More Twinkies

_November 6__th__, 1962_

Alex threw open the door to Hank's lab, tossing a packet of Twinkies down ont he desk to indicate he came, mostly, in peace.

Hank glanced up from what he was working on, blinking at the packet of Twinkies. He reached out, sliding them towards himself slowly. "To what do I owe this?"

"Sean humming at the same volume I was speaking."

"He makes a habit of doing that. What's got you bothered enough to come here then?"

"Erik freaking Lehnsherr."

Hank's eyes snapped up and he found himself growling slightly. "Him? He's around? What did he do?"

"He was playing a goddamned game of chess with the Professor."

For a long moment Hank just stared at him, one hand coming up but not words yet. Finally, "What?"

"Yeah, exactly."

"He was just... playing a game of Chess with the professor?"

"Yeah. Sitting there, bold as anything, in the middle of the park."

"And the professor was just... letting him?"

"You ask me the Professor was _meeting_ him. I've been driving him to that damn park for days, and he's never given me a straight answer about who he expects to play against."

"He's... meeting him. The man who left him bleeding on a beach with no real way off it?" Hank shook his head, glancing down at the now empty package. "This is going to call for more Twinkies."

Alex dropped another package on the desk, "Yeah, the man who crippled him and he's meeting him to play _chess_."

"Oh you have more Twinkies," Hank said, brightening for a moment. "It occurs to me I may be predictable. Unlike our Professor. So, they were just meeting to play chess?"

"I don't know what the hell else they may have been doing. But I do know they were playing chess."

"Were they at least... glaring or arguing with each other. He may be trying to convince Erik back... god knows why but it's possible."

"No, they were sitting there talking like they did in the study, only quieter if possible."

Hank blinked. "I... well."

He scowled, "The Prof was holding his hand."

Hank dropped the gadget he'd been tuning. "Holding his... how?"

"Whaddya mean 'how'?"

"Well, I don't know. Holding hands tends to be... a romantic gesture and..." Hank blinked.

Alex paled, "Oh, hell no. There is not allowed to be an 'and' in that sentence. Whatever your big brain is thinking shut it off."

"I would like to," Hank replied.

Alex muttered under his breath, "Alright, as to 'how'? Let's just say I wouldn't demonstrate with you, hm? Now, you haven't invented a way to get rid of that idea, have you?"

"To get rid of the idea of them and romantically in the same thought?"

The blond just looked at him, "Thank you so much for actually putting that into words that I can now never unhear."

"I tried to separate them with an 'and,'" Hank protested weakly.

"...Great. Hey, you want to try telling Sean, he doesn't usually start humming when you talk."

"You wish to spread this mental agony? Does that count as spreading a rumor?"

"I figure it's only fair. I scarred you why should he get off free. But maybe you're right, maybe we should wait 'til the poor kid stumbles on it himself. I kinda like that idea."

"You are somewhat sadistic, Alex," Hank replied.

"Me? I don't believe in sadism, I believe in hard knocks."

"I think it amounts to the same thing in those other than yourself."

"Eh, well, either way, thanks for letting me spiel." He tossed the last pack of Twinkies he'd brought to the other.

Hank caught them. "I suppose if you bring Twinkies, it's not so bad. And probably good to be able to spiel every once and a while."

"Well, either way, I got things to do. See ya."

"As do I. Good day then, Alex. Thank you for the food."

"Yep," the blond slipped out of the lab going to find something to do.

Hank watched him go and shook his head. Well, tonight would be even more interesting now.

X-X-X-X

Charles entered the lab about thirty minutes after Alex left, "We have got to see about making these doors easier to open... Good evening, Hank."

"I'll see about the doors," Hank said, a little too quickly. "Good evening, professor."

"Is something the matter, Hank?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Charles arched an eyebrow, but nodded slightly, "Are you up for running the tests as we discussed?"

"Certainly," he replied, going to make sure the equipment was calibrated before pausing when he was done and turning to the professor. "Why chess, sir, and why with him?"

Charles startled at that, though he knew he shouldn't really have been surprised, "Just because we don't see eye to eye, Hank does not mean he's not still a friend. Chess is something we picked up during the recruitment drive and it's a good place to meet on neutral territory."

"And holding hands with him?"

"Holding...what?" That was a surprise, he hadn't realized Alex had seen that.

"Because if you have a possible denial for that, that would be great," Hank continued.

"I would have to know what I am denying, Hank."

"Holding someone's hand implies certain things," Hank said, looking him over.

"Ah, that. He's not in an especially good place, right now. It was a gesture of comfort, Hank. That's all."

"_He's_ not in a good place, and _you're_ comforting him?" Hank said in disbelief, shaking his head.

"He's a friend, Hank. No matter what he did, he's a friend."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you still consider him a friend?" Hank asked.

"Because he needs friends, and honestly, I'm not willing to let go of what little hope there is left for him."

Hank narrowed his eyes but continued double checking his work. "You believe there's hope for everyone."

"I do. Or at least for most. He hasn't done anything unforgiveable, Hank," Charles leaned back in his chair, sighing.

"Most people would think he did," Hank replied. "Yet you hold his hand."

"He needs friends, and this isn't unforgiveable, this is something to adjust to."

Hank gave him a long look. "Professor... honestly, how much of that do you believe, and how much do you say in hopes you'll come to believe it as strongly as you say it?"

Charles met Hank's gaze for a long moment before looking away, "I believe it more than I did."

"So telling yourself that is working then, is it?"

"It is. And, believe it or not, I have forgiven him. It doesn't stop it hurting, but I have." /mostly/

Hank considered him for a long moment, ruffling his blue fur. "Everything?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well, you said you'd forgiven him with such finality in your voice... you haven't then?"

"...I think we're finished with this conversation."

Hank ran a hand through the fur at the top of his head, a habit he hadn't dropped from when he had actual hair. "I'm sorry, professor, it's just... it's hard for us to see you forgive him, and what's more than that, it seems you need someone to talk to. Since you can hardly talk rationally to him about it."

"I'm fine, Hank. It's taking time. No, I haven't forgiven him fully, but I am working toward that."

"Do... you need to talk? Clearly you don't want to but..."

"No. Thank you, Hank, I'm fine."

"Alright. Well, you are now. These tests... they might hurt just a little. I don't know, I've never tried them before."

Charles managed a faint smile at that, "If they do it's a good sign, Hank. It means there's still working nerves, remember?"

"I suppose," he murmured. "Shall we get started then?"

The professor nodded, "Whenever you're ready."

* * *

><p>So the characters are being a tad more prolific than we expected, here's the third chapter a lot earlier than planned.<p>

((Disclaimer can be found in Chapter 2))


	4. Why Didn't You Tell Me?

_November 10__th__, 1962_

Emma Frost did not so much walk as saunter into places. For once she was almost wearing something reasonable, skirt almost halfway to her knees and boots made more for comfort than style. It was apparent from her outfit she was in a particularly bad mood, but her expression turned into almost a feral smile when she spotted Erik hunched over a desk, working on something. Luckily for him, the helmet was firmly in place as he knew she was around, but she didn't need to be in his mind to cause damage.

"Erik," she greeted, leaning a hip against the edge of the desk.

He glanced up once and went back down. "What do you want?"

"Simply to talk," she protested.

"You never just want to talk, least of all to me," he replied, eyes darting up and down again. "So what is it?"

"Well," she drawled. "It just seems that after hearing more about what happened that day on the beach—" she didn't even have to say which day—"There are a couple things I'm wondering."

His spine tensed. "I have no inclination to discuss any such things with you," he replied.

"I think you'd like what I have to say."

"I very much doubt it."

"No, I really rather think you might like to hear about what happens to telepath's minds when you do that to them."

Erik's shoulders tensed and he slowly looked up, crossing his arms over what he had been working on. "Excuse me?"

"Well," she said, fluffing the ends of her hair. "From what I can gather of the battle, it appears that your little Charles," Erik growled softly at her, "held Sebastian with his mind while you killed him. And then you made some sort of fuss about not wanting to hurt him, which is really hilarious."

The German's eyes just narrowed further.

"Clearly," she drawled. "You don't have any idea what that does to a telepath. Besides them actually experiencing the pain you're putting the person through, can you possibly imagine what it would be like to feel the mind of another person die while you're connected to them. I'm surprised he didn't pass out or go mad. It's happened to the best of telepaths before you know—going mad."

"Get out," Erik said, voice dropping.

"But I had another—"

"Get. Out."

Emma took another look at his expression and managed not to smirk, sliding away from the desk and flouncing over to the door. "Some food for thought, anyway."

He slammed the door hard after her, using the doorknob to propel it.

Raven was on her way along the corridor toward Erik's office, but she paused when she saw Emma. The smirk on that whore's face told the shapeshifter something was off, well, that could be discovered easily enough. With hardly a thought, the young woman changed her form, Sebastian Shaw suddenly leaning against the wall looking every inch the cold bastard he ever was. "Lovely Emma."

The blonde telepath stopped short, looking him over. "But... you're..."

Shaw strolled over, a lazy smile on his lips, "The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated."

"I..." she glanced back at where she left Erik. After all, she hadn't seen Shaw die herself, being in prison at the time.

"What have you been doing, my lovely White Queen, in my absence?" He was almost within reach.

"Well, I have been recruited under your old protégé Erik, though..." she frowned. "Something's wrong. Your mind, it's wrong..."

Shaw's hand tangled in her blond hair before the figure morphed back into Raven's natural blue form, "I'm surprised it took you so long to notice that. Now, what have you been doing?"

The telepath snarled at her, having been too shocked and hopeful. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" She tilted the other woman's head back, "That look when you came out of Erik's office says otherwise."

"_You_'re judging based off looks now?" the blonde tried pulling away.

Raven tightened her grip, twisting her hand at the back of Emma's head, "No, I'm judging based on what I know about you."

"And what makes you think I would tell you anything then?"

"Because if whatever you've done causes a weakening of Erik in any way you put us all in jeopardy."

"Perhaps it was something he needed to hear then."

Raven yanked back again enough to bow Emma's back, "What did you say?"

"I just told him what killing someone connected to a telepath does—he didn't seem to know and I thought it best to warn him so he would never do the same to me."

"You _bitch_."

"After nearly driving his old telepath mad, I preferred to make it clear he is not allowed to do the same to me!"

Raven hauled Emma back fully upright by her hair, "How dare you use Charles like that!"

"Use him?" she protested again, though she had been doing exactly that. "Looking out for my safety is using our enemy?"

The shapeshifter shoved the telepath against the wall, "I _ever_ find out you've done something like this again, and I'll rip every pretty little blonde hair off your body and then make sure that diamond form of yours shatters, are we clear?"

"You couldn't," Emma snarled, though fear entered her eyes.

"Want to try me? I can become your worst nightmare, Emma, and I will if you _ever_ try something like this again."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "I'll keep it in mind. Now, release me."

She smirked, "Why don't you try and make me?"

"Raven!" a voice thundered from down the hall, Erik having wrenched his office door open on his way out.

She startled back at that, "Yes, Erik?"

"We don't have time for in-group conflicts," he replied, adjusting the helmet. "Let her go."

The shifter released the other woman, stepping fully back, "Very well."

"Thank you," Erik told her, voice softening slightly. His eyes turned back to Emma. "I presume you have somewhere to be."

Straightening, she ran her hands down her outfit and nodded, turning on a heel and stalking away.

Raven watched her go, but turned back to Erik, "I'm sorry. I just..."

"You just?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

"Are you alright?"

"Me?" he asked. "Fine."

She nodded slightly, "Alright. Well, I'll see you around."

"Yes," he said, but he was already heading for the door.

Raven's brow arched as he left, but she returned to the room she was using. She really needed to find some way to cool off and calm down after her set-to with Frost, but the only thing she could think of was going and curling up in her room. It used to be she'd have a yelling match at Charles—never _with_, he rarely raised his voice to her—and she'd be fine, but that option was thoroughly gone now. She paused as she thought she heard motion ahead, she did not want to run into anyone right then.

Azazel paused on his way back to his own rooms, having been bothering Riptide for the past while and bored of not getting any verbal responses. He came around the next corner and considered their youngest recruit.

The shapeshifter eyed him warily, but went to move past him, intent on getting to her room and locking the door—not that it would do much good.

He turned his head slightly as she attempted to pass. "You appear in quite the mood."

She glanced at him, her golden eyes moving quickly away again, "Everyone has moods. I happen to be enjoying mine at the moment."

"You don't look it," he remarked.

"I don't see that it's your business."

He spread his hands out slightly. "We are supposed to be a team, are we not? It was your darling Erik who brought us together."

"A team? Right. We'll go with that. I still don't see how that makes my thoughts and moods your business."

"Curiosity then."

"Which I have no reason to satisfy." She turned to leave.

"Would it be so bad to talk to someone? Or, take your aggression out in a sparring match?"

"A sparring match. With you." She hoped her tone was bland and unimpressed rather than evidencing the fear she felt at the thought.

He shrugged his arms out wide. "Why not? You need the practice and I'm bored."

Raven eyed him and then nodded very slightly, "We certainly could..."

He motioned down the hall. "I believe there is a big enough room that way."

"After you."

He smirked slightly at that and sauntered down the hallway, tail swaying slightly behind him.

She fell into step a few paces behind him, what was she thinking?

Finally reaching his objective, he opened the door and motioned her through, still smirking.

She stepped past him, very much not caring for the expression on his face.

He glanced around the room as he entered, closing the door behind him. "If we plan on staying here long, we could see about getting pads for the floor, and make it a training room. You seem to be the only one in actual communication with our illustrious leader. Do you happen to have any idea what goes through his head?"

"I don't think anyone here knows what goes on in Erik's head. I'll speak with him about setting this up for training though."

He nodded. "He seems rather to keep to himself."

"Can you blame him?" She asked, eying the man before her.

He arched a brow. "Oh?"

"Well, he's dealing with Shaw's whore and the rest of you lot. I'd keep to myself too."

Azazel gave her a long look before throwing his head back and laughing.

She scowled, "What?"

The demon calmed down, shaking his head slightly. "It is always reassuring to be told one is trustworthy, is it not? Besides, that is perhaps the most apt description of Frost I've heard."

"Glad to see _someone_ finds her presence amusing."

"It is better to be amused by her," Azazel said, shaking his head.

"Really? Better than say lighting that pretty head of hair on fire?"

Azazel inclined his head. "That would be... rewarding."

"But rather fleeting too..."

"True."

"Were we planning on actually training or just talking about that bitch?"

"Well, we can always do both," he said, one moment utterly relaxed with his weight on one leg, and the next right behind her.

She startled, whirling and striking out at him.

He caught it easily, pulling down hard on the arm before aiming a kick at her stomach.

She cried out, managing to twist away from the kick, and concentrated on making her arm smaller to slip it out of his grasp.

His eyes widened slightly at that, and he stepped back. "That's a neat trick."

"You vanish and _that_'s a neat trick?"

He grinned. "All neat tricks have their time and place. Yours makes you unpredictable. You should learn how to use it."

"I know how to use it."

"Learn how to use it in a fight," the demonic mutant said. "It's one thing to trick people, another to do it in the middle of battle."

"I got you, if I remember right."

"Oh?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

She shook her head, "Forget it."

"No, now I'm curious. You really must finish your thoughts."

"I don't actually _have_ to do anything of the sort." She turned toward the door, "If you're just going to talk I don't see why I should stick around."

One of his feet lashed out, tripping her suddenly, his tail grabbing one of her arms and pulling her hard the other way from the one she was originally falling.

Raven cried out, her hand closing around his tail as she shifted it, remembering the sight of Hank's new form's claws and using those as her basis.

As soon as the claws sank in, he teleported across the room dragging her with him in an attempt to disorient her.

It very nearly worked, nausea immediately rising, but her naturally shifting state kept her from feeling the worst effects of an initial, unexpected, teleport. She yanked back hard on his tail, hoping to off-balance him.

He stumbled back and turned it into a flip, his tail yanking free and whipping across her front as he went backward, regaining his feet on the other side.

She stumbled back, rubbing her abdomen where he'd connected. Raven eyed him warily, her body tensed.

Once there was space between them, he seemed to relax again. "You don't seem to much like me," he said, tone conversational again.

"Why should I?"

He shrugged, spreading his arms out again.

"Not exactly an answer."

"Well, we are supposed to be on the same side now, after all. Mutant and proud, isn't that our team?"

"That's not a reason to like someone."

"And when we have to work together?"

"Then we'll work together. Working together and liking one another do not have to go hand in hand. You've worked with Frost before, and you obviously dislike her."

"True, but she was never a good warrior either. To fight together on the battlefield, one has to trust the others around them. It's why so many warrior cultures took their apprentices as lovers, after all," he said, smirking and showing just a hint of teeth.

"Good thing I'm not your goddamned apprentice then." She turned to leave again.

"That wasn't an offer," he said with a shrug. "Simply an observation."

"Good." Raven reached the door, still unable to believe she'd actually allowed herself to be alone in a room with that...there wasn't a word she could think of for him.

He crossed his arms as he watched her go, smirking and his tail swishing behind him.

Raven closed the door behind her, shuddering once she was out. What she had seen him do at the CIA base had been enough to convince her that she did _not_ want to spend more time than necessary around him. Ever.

"Much more entertaining than Riptide," he murmured to the now empty room, shaking his head before continuing with the rest of his day.

X-X-X-X

Charles sat at his desk, studying the information the doctors had given him, comparing it to the tests he and Hank had run a few days prior. Both indicated nerve damage severe enough that he wouldn't walk for a very long time, if ever, but there had been fleeting sensation during the tests Hank ran. It had been for only a split second, short enough that Charles hadn't been certain he'd felt anything. Looking over the results now, though, showed a spike in the sensory intake for an infinitesimal moment. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

They would start by working to re-establish feeling and proceed up toward muscle control. God knew it would hurt far more than the pain of the initial injury, but with patience and perseverance (Raven would call it bull-headedness he was sure) Charles could see himself walking again.

He would need leg braces. The telepath considered that-the only problem was the materials. Metal would have to be used, which mean that Erik would know. On the other hand, it might alleviate some of the German's guilt. He would have to see if that would help or harm. He looked up, frowning as he caught a brief flash of emotion from the entryway.

Alex glared at the man on the front steps, "What the hell do you want?"

"Nothing from you," Erik informed him, storming into the mansion's entry way.

Hank stopped short, having come from the kitchen and blinked in surprise.

Sean actually looked up from what he was doing in the front parlor. He blinked, "Wha-?"

"You're not welcome here." The blond growled, feeling his power building.

"That's hardly for you to decide," Erik replied a bit coldly. "I need to talk to Charles. So get out of my way," he said, glancing down and noticing Alex was wearing the metal plate on his chest. "Or I'll stick you to the ceiling. It's hard to aim from up there."

Alex shrugged, "The professor's been talking about installing some subbasements."

"I did not mean for their entrance to be the foyer, Alex," Charles spoke from behind the younger man.

Erik's eyes snapped away from Alex to Charles. "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded.

"What?" The telepath blinked in confusion before scowling at the helmet Erik still wore.

Erik didn't reply, lifting Charles' wheelchair and floating it up the stairs toward what he remembered to be Charles' room, leaving the other three blinking after them in confusion.

Alex scowled, "Okay, I'm going to go for a drive. Not interested in sticking around." He left, the door all but slamming shut behind him.

Sean looked up the stairs and then turned to Hank, "What was that?"

"What was what?" the taller mutant asked, trying to look innocent. "I mean, besides Erik returning rather abruptly."

"Yeah, no I saw that. What was with him and the Prof?"

"Well... apparently they are still on speaking terms," Hank said, shifting slightly.

"You don't seem surprised by that."

"Well..." Hank started and sighed. "Apparently they've been seen playing chess in the park and... holding hands."

"_Holding hands_?" Sean gaped at him, "And you knew this?"

"Well," Hank shrugged, looking after where Alex had departed. "For a few days."

"Why didn't I hear about this?"

"Well, the Professor hardly seems the sort to talk, I was trying not to think about it... and when Alex tried to inform you of the particulars, you hummed over him."

"...Which I am now going back to doing." He shook his head, "Still friends..."

"And holding hands," Hank reminded him.

"Can't hear you!" He retreated to the parlor again.

Hank shook his head and glanced up the stairs, worried about the Professor slightly, but he shook his head and retreated quickly down to his lab.

* * *

><p>Your author's notes from Victoriousscarf: We're really happy and somewhat astonished at the feedback we've been getting for this story, so thanks so much, especially for all the lovely reviews! (And just in case you missed it, there're two author's writing this story, so when you hear a "we" we're not being pompous and using the royal we, or suffering from any multiple personality disorders, promise).<p>

There are a couple different character interpretations in here, since the film gave some characters next to no personality (Azazel, I'm looking at you). So again, thank of all you reading, and putting the story on alert, and especially those of you who've taken the time to review. It means a lot to us, and since they've plotted the story out though the Last Stand now, we might be here for a while, so the positive support means a lot to us. :D


	5. Like Standing on the Edge of a Void

_November 10__th__, 1962_

Charles glanced up at Erik, alarmed at the lifting of the chair and more than slightly angry about the replacement of the helmet, "Erik, where are you taking me?"

"Your room," Erik declared, too distracted to think that through.

"...Is in the East Wing of the first floor."

That caused Erik to stop, the chair still suspended in the air. "... Oh. _Oh_."

"I haven't yet had a lift installed," Charles remarked quietly.

"Yes, I..." he shook his head. "I'm sorry. Is there another staircase down? I'd rather not pass by them again."

"There's three or four. We could just talk up here if you would prefer..."

"I..." Erik paused for the first time and shrugged. "Where ever you would be comfortable."

"There are stairs down that hall there, they come down near my rooms," he nodded to their left.

"Alright," Erik said softly, gently pushing Charles' wheelchair in front of him and down the stairs, glancing around, letting Charles direct him to the new room and finally setting the chair down, looking around the new chambers.

Charles looked around the room, it wasn't quite as comfortable as the ones he'd had before, but that was due to not having used these rooms long enough, "Now, then. What is it?"

Erik scowled. "Why didn't you tell me what happened to you when you were holding Shaw?" he demanded, not even registering he was still wearing the helmet.

Charles turned his chair and looked up at the other man, "Because I hadn't seen a time to mention it."

"You didn't," Erik started and bit it off with a soft snarl. "That was important, Charles."

"Why? And when would I have told you, Erik?"

"We had time," Erik replied. "During the matches or God knows you should have told me then. Instead, Emma Frost took it upon herself to inform me what..." He shook his head, reaching up to run a hand over his eyes and encountered the helmet. He paused for a moment, finally remembering he was wearing it, and took it off quickly, leaving it on Charles' desk.

Charles frowned deeply, "How would I have told you then? I _tried_. I couldn't reach you." His blue eyes drifted to the helmet.

Erik's own eyes went to the helmet and he let out a long breath before kneeling in front of Charles, taking his hands. "Alright. Now, can you... at least tell me what I did?"

Charles looked down, sighing, "Erik, you don't want to know that."

"Yes I do," the other replied quietly.

"I...don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I can do this to _you_, Erik."

"Charles," the other said, brushing a hand over the other man's temples from where he was still in front of him.

The telepath swallowed, "I...are you sure?"

The German nodded. "Yes."

Charles drew an unsteady breath, "You shoved a coin through Shaw's brain. I felt every iota of that. I could feel it passing through his head as though it were my own."

Erik's face remained impassive, though his hands tightened on where he was holding Charles'.

"I-I felt him die. I felt his terror, his pain, and then...nothing. It was like standing on the edge of a void at risk of falling endlessly into it." Charles ran his thumb over the back of Erik's hand.

"I'm sorry," Erik said softly, voice rough. "Charles, I'm sorry."

"You couldn't have known, Erik." He extricated one of his hands to run it gently over Erik's hair.

"I should have known. I should have at least thought," Erik replied, tilting his head into the touch. "And to think moments later I said I didn't want to hurt you and you managed not to laugh in my face."

"Erik... It happened. Would have, could have, should have, none of that can change."

"Perhaps," Erik sighed. "But I wish it hadn't."

"I know. I forgive you. It hurt, but I survived and the memory will fade."

For a moment, Erik considered before leaning up and kissing Charles' temple.

Charles turned his head, his hand coming to rest on Erik's cheek as he kissed him, "I love you, Erik."

"God only knows why," Erik said, though his voice was fond.

"Because you are an amazing man, and so very strong."

Taking a breath, Erik slowly let it out, kissing Charles' cheek before kissing him again. Charles leaned into the kiss, one of his hands moving to rest on Erik's shoulder.

Finally, Erik pulled away, resting his forehead against Charles'. "I'm fairly certain I'm in love with you too."

Charles smiled softly, "I'm glad."

"I think it's the craziest mistake I've made my entire life," Erik said softly. "But I'm also fairly certain I don't care."

"I don't know that I can call this a mistake, and I _know_ I don't care."

Erik considered him a long moment. "I'm not just coming back," he said.

Charles sighed, "I know. I'm...I'm not asking you to."

"Alright," Erik said softly. "But, I'd still like to return sometimes."

"I would like you to," the telepath offered him a gentle smile. "I am sorry you had to find out from Emma Frost."

"Well," Erik shrugged slightly. "She was just dying to hurt me some way."

Charles sighed, tracing his thumb over Erik's cheekbone, "I'm sorry I gave her the leverage to do so."

Erik shrugged. "There are worse things in the world."

"I...have some good news."

"Oh?" Erik asked a bit cautiously.

"There was a moment of sensory reception during the tests a few days ago. It's possible to rebuild the neural pathways."

Erik blinked, and blinked again. "You might...?"

Charles nodded, offering him another gentle smile, "It will take a long time and a lot of work, but there is a very real possibility that I will walk again."

The German looked at him a long moment, a smile finally turning the corners of his mouth up, before he leaned up to kiss the other again. The young professor's arms wrapped around the other man's neck as he leaned into the kiss. Erik pushed further into the kiss, arms wrapping around Charles' waist, pressing against the back of the chair. Charles made a soft sound in the back of his throat, one hand running through Erik's hair.

"You're messing up my hair," Erik remarked when he pulled an inch away to take in a breath, before returning the kiss again.

Charles smirked against the kiss, _Is that a problem?_

Erik returned the smirk into the kiss. _I believe I shall learn to live with it._

"Good," Charles leaned down a bit further to kiss Erik's jaw.

Erik shifted at that, turning his head to kiss Charles' neck. Charles tilted his head to allow Erik better access. Finally, Erik pulled back slightly, looking the professor over.

"Hm? What is it?"

Erik leaned forward to kiss Charles' cheek before drawing back again, smiling faintly. "My knees are starting to ache. Hardwood floor hardly does them any favors."

Charles pulled back a bit, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't even think...I..."

Erik hummed softly, not actually minding much, though he did glance around.

Charles motioned toward a couch against one wall, "Have a seat?"

Rising, Erik nodded, pushing Charles' chair over to the same couch. "Would you like to sit on the couch as well, or are you comfortable there?" Erik asked.

"I...wouldn't mind joining you on the couch."

Erik nodded, and rather than asking the other if he actually wanted help, lifted him up.

Charles startled a bit at that, his arms instinctively circling the German's neck for balance, "Erik!"

"Yes?" the taller asked, grinning.

"I can move myself from the chair to the couch."

"Perhaps," he said, sitting with Charles still atop of him. "But I wanted to."

Charles laughed quietly, "You know I could actually sit on the couch beside you..."

"You could," Erik agreed.

"Are you going to let me?"

"Do you really want to? I enjoy you here."

The telepath blushed very slightly, leaning his head on Erik's shoulder and kissing the other's throat, "I think I'm good here."

"Good," Erik rumbled, tightening his arms slightly.

Charles nuzzled against Erik's neck, "I do miss you, Erik. I feel we've both got far too much time to think."

Erik titled his neck slightly, one arm coming up to rest on the small of Charles' back, the other moving up to cradle the back of his head. "I miss you as well. Though, we didn't have this to miss," he said softly. "And too much time, do you think?"

Charles nodded slightly his hair brushing against Erik's neck. The feeling of Erik's hands on his back and head was reassuring, "I do."

"What have you been thinking about?" Erik asked, figuring he had some clear idea.

"Worrying about you, and about the boys. And honestly, I'm trying to figure out if it's viable to open up the estate for other students, and if so what would have to go into the refurnishing of the mansion for that, and..."

Erik brought a finger around to place it over Charles' mouth. "You're right, you are thinking too much. Surely you have the funds to refurnish the place?"

"I do, it's the technical aspect. I haven't anywhere to be able to adapt to the sheer number of different powers that could show up."

"I doubt you could ever fully prepare for all mutant powers," Erik said. "But Alex... mentioned the idea of subbasements. Creating different areas down there at least would give you more space to work out of."

"True, it means excavation, installation, wiring, support, walling, lifts, and potentially having to continually erase the memory of any work crew, though." Charles rattled off the list of concerns he'd been mulling over for the last few days.

Erik considered him for a long moment. "Then use mutants."

"Like who?"

"I'm not sure, surely your..." He paused. "No, Cerebro was destroyed wasn't it?"

Charles sighed, nodding, "And I haven't anywhere to construct a new one here, yet."

Erik smoothed a hand over Charles' hair. "Well, I am certain you'll find something, even if it takes time."

"Thank you for your confidence."

Erik nuzzled up against Charles' ear. "I have complete confidence in you and your abilities," he murmured directly into said ear.

Charles shivered slightly at that, "I-I..."

"You?" Erik asked, smirking but not moving back.

He didn't answer, just leaning in to kiss the other again. Erik continued smirking against the kiss, pulling Charles a bit closer. Charles made a soft sound, his hand moving to clutch Erik's upper arm. Both of Erik's arms dropped down to around his waist as he continued. Charles leaned harder into the kiss, his other hand moving to trace down Erik's side. Erik shifted, leaning a bit harder into the kiss as well.

The telepath drew back slightly, "Erik..."

The German drew back, taking a breath. "Yes, Charles?"

"We...I mean...what are we doing?"

Erik blinked. "Hm?"

He shook his head, "Never mind."

"No," Erik said, running a hand across Charles' hair. "What is it?"

"I just, we're on two different sides, your people don't even know where you are. What are we doing?"

Erik sighed, resting his forehead against Charles' again. "I don't know."

"Why does everything have to be so difficult?"

"Because it's life, Charles. But that's never stopped me before, and I doubt it's seriously stopped you."

He managed a slight smile, "I suppose that's true. It would be nice for once, but I don't know that even I can hope that much."

Erik hummed, both hands going back to Charles' waist. "We'll figure things out as we go. I missed you too much, and no matter what ideological disagreements we might have, I care about you."

"And I you. I want this to work, I've just been spending too much time worrying I suppose."

"Should find something else for you to do with your time."

"Well, I've been working on blueprints, technology required, testing, making sure the three boys are training, I'm running out of free time."

"Then stop worrying. At least so much. We wouldn't want you to go grey before your time."

That garnered another smile, "What you don't think I'd look dignified with grey hair?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'd look charming, Charles," Erik drawled. "In fact, I'm sure you could look like anything and I wouldn't care."

"I'm not sure that's the most reassuring answer. I will try to decrease my worrying. After all, I happen to like my hair brown."

"I'm particularly fond of your hair this way myself," Erik replied, kissing the top of it.

"What time are you heading back?"

"I... stormed out without actually planning for anything."

Charles blinked at that, "I am sorry I didn't tell you."

Erik just tightened his arms around him. "Not as sorry as I am for doing it to you."

"Oh, Erik. You couldn't have known."

"No, but..." he sighed and shook his head, kissing Charles' temple again, "Known or not, I'm still surprised you could forgive me."

"I love you, Erik, I'm still hurt, but I'm healing and forgiveness is a large part of that."

"I'm glad, even of the things I don't deserve," Erik replied, and smiled wryly. "I'm not actually as self-pitying as I sound, I just wish it could have been different."

Charles laughed quietly, "I know. We all do."

"Do you... need me to go?" Erik asked finally.

"I don't think so. Give me a moment." Charles closed his eyes, raising a hand to the side of his head. He opened his eyes, shaking his head, "Hank's holed up in his lab, Sean's ignoring pretty much anything and Alex is a good twenty miles away."

"Well," Erik said, smiling and shaking his head slightly. "I certainly managed to scare them all away rather quickly."

That elicited a chuckle, "I think the pronoun you're looking for is actually 'we'."

Erik hummed again, shifting slightly to settle back more comfortably, still holding Charles with him. "Perhaps."

Charles placed his hands on the back of the couch and used them to adjust his position just a bit, resting his head on Erik's shoulder again.

Erik kissed his ear, sighing softly. "Oh Charles."

"Hm? Yes, Erik?"

Erik shook his head slightly, pulling him a bit closer. "Just regretting again. We wasted so much time."

Charles tilted his head enough to kiss Erik's neck again, "It was hardly wasted."

"No, but I could have..." he swallowed, "I could have been holding you like this long before leaving you."

"I...that's true, but I'm not certain either of us was fully aware of how we felt at that time."

"No," Erik admitted and shook his head. "I had more than some indication. I think... I thought that walking away would help."

Charles levered himself up a bit to be able to look into Erik's eyes, "I...I didn't realize."

"I believe I would have been concerned if you had," Erik replied. "Telepath or not I prefer to be able to hide my emotions."

"If I had though..." He drew a deep breath, "I've cared for you for quite some time, Erik, I just..."

Erik leaned in and kissed him again before drawing back. "What would you have done?" he asked softly. "Indulge my imagination."

"I would have told you that it was reciprocated. I may be intelligent, but I'm a bit of a coward when it comes to this, Erik."

That got a fond smile out of the taller of the pair. "So you were aware," he murmured. "You may have missed this, but I may be a bit of a coward too."

Charles leaned forward enough to kiss him softly, "I had missed that."

"That's just because I kissed you first," Erik said, though his stomach turned over.

"Which is more than I think I would have had the courage to do. I'm so very glad you did."

Erik nuzzled against his hair. "You're welcome then."

"I love you, Erik."

"God, Charles," Erik breathed.

The telepath leaned in, kissing him again, "Shh."

Erik returned the kiss, tilting his head and holding Charles' waist. Charles relaxed, pressing into the kiss, his hand moving to rest against Erik's chest. Erik pulled him closer, and after several long moments drew back slightly.

Charles responded with a soft noise of protest.

Erik took a breath. "Charles, this doesn't matter in all the important ways but..." he paused to take another breath. "Can you even?"

The telepath paused at that, dropping his gaze, "I...am not certain. I believe so, to some extent. I have next to no feeling below my waist currently, though."

Erik sucked in a deep breath and nodded. "Alright," he said.

Charles glanced at him, "Is it?"

"Yes," Erik replied, firmly. "God knows I can control my own body, and as much as anything, I don't just love you for your looks or hair, Charles. I'll survive well enough."

The smaller man hesitated before nodding very slightly, "Alright..."

Erik leaned forward to kiss him hard again. "It's just another on our list of things to work through after all."

"True..." He pressed against the German, returning the kiss with equal fervor.

"It certainly hasn't impacted your kissing," Erik said with a soft laugh against the kiss.

Charles laughed quietly at that, "No, I don't suppose it would."

Erik tilted his chin back, and deepened the kiss. That earned a soft sound of pleasure as Charles allowed one of his arms to slip behind Erik's neck, his other hand still resting against the taller man's chest. Still grinning against the kiss, Erik ran a hand down Charles' back. Charles arched at the touch, ending up pressed more firmly against Erik, he allowed the hand at the back of Erik's neck to trail down his spine.

Erik let out a huff of breath, making a sound at the back of his throat. Charles smiled into the kiss at that, running his fingers up and down Erik's spine again. Shifting further against him, Erik growled softly. Charles gasped very softly at that sound, but didn't pull back, his other hand tracing patterns on Erik's chest. Erik smirked again, and tried the sound again.

Charles leaned up into the kiss more insistently, the emotions in the room having as much to do with it as anything.

"Charles," Erik stuttered out finally. "Y-you're broadcasting... I think th-that's what it is."

The telepath drew back slightly, a bit flushed, "Wh-what?"

Erik blushed slightly, running his thumbs over Charles' red cheeks. "Your emotions. I can feel them buzzing around me."

"H-here I thought those were yours…"

"I'm fairly aware of which are mine," Erik breathed. "So... both of us then?"

"I-I guess so."

Erik smiled and leaned back down. "Should I stop?" he asked, pausing a centimeter from Charles' mouth.

"No, please don't," the smaller man murmured.

"Alright," Erik said, and sealed the kiss with a smile.

And this is the point where they've decided that making out is easier than talking.

* * *

><p>Meadowlark: Oh these two. Eventually they might actually do as we wish... No, that's a lie. Two extremely stubborn muses versus two slightly less stubborn authors. I do believe they shall continue to behave as they please. Thank you all for the avid response, VS tells me the e-mail inbox has been repeatedly flooded with response to this fic. Thank you again to all of you who have reviewed and alerted and favorited.<p> 


	6. Old Scars Always Have Bearing

_November 16__th__, 1962_

It was several days before Erik returned again. In the meantime, something akin to a bank heist, only done much more subtly, had gone down, and the rest of the Hellfire Club was too busy spending the reaping of that particular outing to be paying his movements any scrutiny. He wasn't entirely sure about what Ra-Mystique thought of him disappearing again, but she at least would stand by him rather than attempt anything.

He entered the mansion through the backdoor, much more quietly than his last entrance.

Charles had sensed the moment he entered the grounds and was waiting for him in the corridor near the door, "Hello, Erik."

Erik smiled down at him, having remembered to leave the helmet long behind him. "Charles."

Hank was on his way past to the kitchen, paused for a moment, and retreated quickly. He would find the Twinkies later.

Charles glanced in that direction, but turned his attention quickly back to Erik, "It's good to see you, my friend."

"You as well," he replied. "It has been..." only a matter of days that felt longer. He hoped that would stop eventually.

The telepath nodded very slightly, holding out a hand to the other, "Thank you for coming."

"Of course, Charles," he said.

"How have you been?"

"The same as I've always been," Erik replied, leaning down and kissing the top of Charles' head. "And yourself?"

"You always give that same answer, Erik, I'm not entirely certain it counts." He didn't really have an answer for Erik, since he was worse than he could have been.

Erik arched a brow at that. "You already know the answer, and until something changes it is the correct response. Funnily enough, you haven't answered either."

"I'm fine, doing well even."

"Truly, Charles?"

"Of course, Erik."

The taller glanced around from where they were still in the hallway. "Perhaps somewhere where Alex is not in danger of creating any havoc would be wise?"

Charles smiled a bit at that, turning the chair and managing not to wince, he'd been working the muscles in his arms and shoulders perhaps a tad more than he should over the last day or two. He couldn't risk not having them—he'd have to cut back on building strength there. "My rooms?"

"I would believe so," Erik replied, barely managing not to take control of the chair, either by pushing it himself or using his powers, following Charles instead.

Charles paused at the door to his rooms, "Do you mind getting the door?"

Erik blinked at that, stepping forward to push the door open with his hand and holding it for Charles.

The smaller man entered the suite, glancing around with a soft sigh.

Erik closed the door glancing around and turning his attention fully to Charles. "Is something the matter?"

"Hm? Oh, no. It's just been a long day." He was studiously ignoring the nightmare-filled night he'd had. It seemed like all of his demons and memories chose the same night for once, though he supposed that was an exaggeration.

Erik brushed a hand over Charles' forehead. "How long?"

Charles reminded himself that the correct response to that touch was not to pull away just before he did so, "Long. Still looking at logistics of subbasements and what would be required to set this place up as a functioning school, worked with Alex on control, and spent quite a while exercising to get more strength in my upper body at the very least."

"You shouldn't push yourself."

"I'm fine, Erik, just a bit tired is all."

"Is that all?"

"What do you mean?"

Erik shrugging, sitting down on the couch. "The long day. Are you sure that's all that's bothering you?"

"Of course," Charles wheeled over next to the couch, carefully shifting himself to the couch, it was more effort than he'd expected.

Erik frowned at that, but he himself was rather exhausted and not entirely sure how far to push any suspicions he had.

The telepath carefully arranged his legs, hating the fact that he had to use his hands to do so, before leaning against the other man. "How is she doing?"

Erik watched him, before hooking an arm around his waist. "Adjusting. She would still like to drop Emma off a cliff, and may well be getting Azazel to support her plan but... well. She's doing well."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"So am I," Erik said. "Though, I suppose I don't have to hear it, but I'm glad she is."

Charles sighed, nodding very slightly. He tilted his head to look up at the other man, "What have you been up to?"

Erik tilted his head, letting his cheek rest against the top of Charles' hair. His thumb from the hand around Charles' waist slipped under his shirt. "You probably do not want to know."

He sighed, "I suppose you're probably right. Please...just stay safe." He drew fractionally away from the touch of Erik's skin on his without realizing it.

"I'm always safe," Erik replied and frowned. "Charles...?"

The telepath realized what he'd done and relaxed again, "Yes, Erik?"

"Is everything alright?" Erik asked, and hesitated only a moment before rubbing his thumb in a slight circle.

He nodded, "Yes. It just startled me."

"You're jumpy today..."

"I'm not that bad..."

"No," Erik agreed, kissing the top of his head.

Charles managed a faint smile, leaning his head against Erik's shoulder for a moment. He drew himself together before tilting his head up to kiss Erik's jaw.

Erik hummed at the contact, shifting around.

Charles let out a quiet sound at the motion, turning as best he could to better allow himself access to the other man's neck and jaw line. Shifting again, Erik pulled him closer, one arm wrapping around his back. Wrapping an arm around the back of Erik's neck, Charles drew him down far enough so he could actually kiss him. The taller grinned against the kiss, both of his arms around the other's back now, and tugging him just a bit closer.

_This is easier when I'm on your lap._ The telepath smiled against the kiss, pressing up into it as best he could.

_Would you like to be?_ Erik asked, still grinning against the kiss.

_I certainly wouldn't mind..._

Erik pulled at him then, shifting them around so he was leaning against the couch's arm, Charles carefully on his lap. _Better?_

Charles smiled again, leaning further into the kiss, the angle easier to handle now, _Much._

The German hummed against the kiss, dipping his hands beneath Charles' sweater and running them along his back. Charles arched at that touch, pressing closer to Erik with that motion. Almost laughing at that, Erik stopped, pausing and running his hands along the same stretch of back again, suddenly frowning.

Charles felt the muscles in his back twitch at Erik's touch and he drew away from the kiss as he realized exactly what the other man had felt. He reached back and gently, but firmly, pulled on Erik's wrists to get his hands off of his back.

"Charles," Erik said, voice low and hands not moving much.

"What?" He pulled a little harder, the angle his arms were in wasn't conducive to any sort of leverage, but this was not something he wanted to deal with. Especially not that day.

Erik shifted so he was sitting up straight, staring at Charles for a long moment. "There are scars on your back," he said, stating the obvious, and the low growl in his voice expressing exactly what he wanted to do to whoever put those scars there.

The telepath met his gaze, one of his hands moving to the back of the couch to help him balance as Erik changed positions, "I'm aware of that. They're very old, and have no current bearing."

Erik stared at him for a long moment, hands still supporting Charles' back before finally moving them back down to the smaller's hips. "Old scars always have bearing," he replied.

Charles looked away, "It doesn't matter, Erik."

In response, Erik tugged him closer, nuzzling at his neck. "It does."

Charles tilted his head back, murmuring, "Please, Erik, don't ask."

The taller German took a deep breath before slowly letting it out. "It seems unfair," he murmured. "That you get to poke around all my memories and I suddenly realize I know nothing about yours. But... I won't ask. For now."

"I..." The smaller man raised a hand to run it down Erik's cheek, "I don't know how to talk about it, Erik. I'm not certain I can."

Erik let out another long breath.

He looked away again, "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Charles, it is hardly your fault," Erik said, shaking his head slightly.

"I..." He sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head against Erik's shoulder again.

Erik gathered him closer in his arms. "You really have been hurt..."

He shook his head firmly, locking down the memories that rose at the thought of the scars, "I'm fine."

Erik kissed his temple. "Of course you are," he murmured.

Charles bit back the first several responses to flicker through his mind, some for how obvious they sounded and others for their petulance. "It's nothing," he murmured, reminding himself more than speaking to the other.

"Something else we won't see eye to eye on then," Erik said. The fingers of one hand twitched to move over to cover up his tattoo, but he settled for just holding Charles instead.

The telepath felt the instinctive motion, his blue eyes opening again, "Well..."

Erik arched a brow. "Well?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Give me a moment." He took a deep breath, levering himself up a little bit, running a hand over the side of Erik's face again, his smile faint and rather sad.

"A moment for what?" Erik asked, voice soft.

"Hm? Oh, to figure out if I have any idea where I was going with that 'well'," the half-truths fell easily from his lips again.

Erik brushed a hand over the other's temple, frowning slightly again. "Do let me know when you've figured it out."

Charles gently took Erik's hand away from his temple, tracing his fingers over the palm, "I will."

Erik smiled at that, letting the serene moment wash over him for a moment, though the idea of scars on Charles' back still bothered him too much. "Who did it?" he asked finally.

He sighed, "Erik...please."

"I just would like to know," Erik protested.

"It doesn't matter," Charles said, continuing before the other could say anything, "He's dead. He died saving my life."

The German considered for a moment before nodding. "Good."

That earned another sigh, "Erik..."

"Hm?" he hummed, kissing Charles' jaw.

"Nothing I suppose." His hand came up and his fingers traced the line of Erik's jaw, and then up around his ear.

Erik managed to stop thinking about the scars long enough to enjoy that, mollified by the fact the other was dead so he wouldn't have to pry the name out of someone and hunt them down himself. He hummed instead, tilting his head enough to find Charles' mouth.

The telepath hesitated for a brief moment before leaning into the kiss. When he felt the other responding, Erik deepened the kiss, pulling Charles closer to him. Charles made a soft sound at that, one hand moving to trace patterns on the other man's chest. Erik smirked into the kiss as the door opened. "Professor," Hank started, stepping in and then freezing.

Charles startled at that, drawing back to glance at Hank, a blush coloring his cheeks, "Yes, Henry?"

Hank blinked, and blinked again, as Erik turned his own head to give the blue mutant a level look. "I was, that is, I..." Hank floundered around for a minute. "I was going to ask if you had any preferences for dinner, and are we having another guest then? Lovely, I'm going to go back to inventing brain bleach, excuse me," he said, stepping back and shutting the door as abruptly as he opened it.

Charles' brow arched, answering after the door was closed, _No, Hank, no preferences for dinner, and yes, please do set another place at the table._

_Lovely._ Hank thought back, already moving off quickly.

Erik arched a brow at Charles. "I hope I didn't break your scientist."

"I'm certain he'll recover," Charles smiled softly, leaning in to kiss the other again gently.

Erik smiled into the kiss. _Does your door have a lock?_

_It does, I just hadn't seen a need for it thus far._

Shifting into the kiss further, Erik clicked the lock shut. _Good. I would hate for Alex to have the same experience. I don't much feel like being blown out a window._

Charles trailed his fingers down Erik's side, _Usually they remember to knock._

_I'll take your word for it_, Erik replied, his hands wrapping around Charles' waist, but careful of his back.

The telepath's free hand came up to tangle in Erik's hair.

* * *

><p>Your authors apologize for the length of this chapter, but we felt it made for a logical break that wasn't a chapter longer than we actually felt like writingreading ourselves. Thank you again to our reviewers, it's always a pleasure knowing that our work is read!


	7. There Goes My Hope to Delegate

_November 16__th__, 1962_

Hank bustled around the kitchen, trying to focus on formulas.

Alex came in, a grease mark over his right eyebrow and a few more staining his shirt, but at least his hands were clean. He moved over, picking up a glass and getting some water, "You really just need an apron and you'd fit right in here."

"I happen to like the kitchen," Hank replied, glancing over at him. "Besides, I've yet to find an apron I approve of."

"I was thinking frilly lace'd fit you. Why do you like it in here so much?" He leaned back against the counter, sipping at his water.

Hank arched a brow at that, turning back to make sure the stove was on the right temperature. "I don't think it would go very well with my fur," he replied. "And cooking is a lot like science after all. In cooking, you put all the pieces together and something, usually good, comes out of it. In science you put the pieces together and hope to god it comes out as it should. Cooking is just a more reassuring version of what I do every day in the lab."

Alex arched an eyebrow at that, "As long as the chemicals stay in the lab and the edibles stay up here I'm fine with that. Saves me having to do it."

"I promise I won't mix and match," Hank replied. "Can you even cook?"

Alex shrugged, "I can make food to get by on."

Hank hummed. "It's a very useful talent to have. I'm not nearly as good a teacher as the professor, but if you'd like, I'm usually in here about dinner time."

The younger man shook his head, "Nah. I'll pass. Leave the cooking to you scientific types."

Hank sighed melodramatically. "Well, there goes my hope to delegate. Can you at least put the plates on the table or get a salad out or something?"

"Yeah I can do the plates." Alex moved over to the cupboard taking down four plates and three glasses, he'd use the one he already had.

Looking over, Hank bit the inside of his lip and remembered why that was a habit he really needed to stop now. "Extra plate," he said.

Alex turned to look at him for a long moment, "Extra plate?"

"If you would," Hank said, paying more attention to the stove.

"...Why?" The blond took another plate down and reached for another glass.

"We're having a guest over for dinner."

"Who?" Alex picked up the plates, balancing a couple of the glasses on them.

"Well, that, I mean," Hank fumbled for words again, busying himself with the stove.

"I didn't hear a name there."

"Oh, did you want one?" Hank tried for innocence.

"You don't get away with playing stupid. Sean does, sometimes, and I do, but you don't."

"Stupidity and ignorance are completely different things!" Hank protested. "It's a fine line, and they often overlap, but they are different things! I could honestly not be aware of our guest's identity."

Alex set the last glass down and went to get the utensils. "But you do, don't you, Fuzzy?"

"Could you please have been obtuse?" Hank asked, shaking his head. "Alright, yes, I know, but since I haven't discovered the secret for brain bleach yet or unhearing words, I'm not sure you want to."

Alex blinked at him, his hand tightening around the handle of a fork, "_He_'s coming to dinner?"

"Yes," Hank replied. "You don't think we have any non-metal utensils do you?" he asked, eying the fork. "And, technically, he's already _here_ but he seems to be staying for dinner."

Alex looked at the fork in his hand and then shook his head, "I don't think so. And he's here already?"

"Yes. On... the Professor's couch actually."

"...What can you not unsee? Do I want to know?"

"Considering the words you cannot unhear? The Professor was not only on his lap but distracted enough not to notice me opening the door. Need I expand or are you content with that?"

Alex's eyes widened, "No, I'm good with that. What the hell?"

"Well, we can safely say they're closer to the idea of romantic entanglements than holding hands. If you're asking me to question either of their motives, I'd rather not."

"I don't want an answer. I'm thinking I might eat on the patio..."

"No," Hank said a little too quickly. "You can endure along with us."

Alex scowled at him, "And if I just walk out right now?"

"I am somewhat bulkier than you," Hank replied. "Alex, it won't be that bad. I mean, it will be, but we have each other to back up."

"So let Sean back you up. I'm not interested."

"Alex..."

"What?"

"Come on. Would it be so hard to be civil?"

"Yes."

"Alex," Hank tried to coax him again.

"I don't want the Prof giving me looks all night 'cause of exactly what I think about his... whatever the hell he is."

"You weren't even the one to walk in on them in a passionate kiss," Hank remarked. "I think we'll all be thinking along the same thoughts."

"I don't want to, and frankly I don't have to."

Hank sighed finally. "You're right, I suppose. You don't actually have to."

"Then why would I?"

Hank shrugged finally. "For the sake of the rest of us?"

Alex's frown deepened, but he finally shrugged, "Fine, whatever."

"Thank you, Alex."

"Mm. I'm gonna go get cleaned up."

Hank nodded, looking him over and almost remarking he looked rather clean already except for that one bit, but decided against it. "Alright. I'll... finish dinner and attempt not to poison his serving."

Alex nodded, "Yeah, you do that." He slipped out to change his shirt.

Hank sighed, watching him go.

A while later, Hank looked up and sent a message up to Charles that dinner was ready.

X-X-X

Charles drew back a bit, "Hank says it's time for dinner."

Erik blinked. "Are you sure we're inviting me to dinner?"

"Hank's prepared enough for five, and Alex even set the table as far as I can tell."

Erik blinked again. "Really now."

"As far as I can tell. So, if you don't mind?"

"But staying in here, and kissing you, is so much easier," Erik said, pulling at his waist and grinning. He was mostly joking.

Charles laughed very slightly, "It is, but it is through challenges that we grow."

Erik rolled his eyes. "Don't try and teach me, Charles."

"If we don't go I won't be able to give you my full attention, their mental clamoring will be too loud..."

"Well, I suppose we must then," Erik teased softly.

Charles kissed him lightly again, "Help me into the chair?"

"Certainly," Erik replied, shifting around so he could stand, Charles in his arms, before gently settling him down.

The telepath carefully adjusted his position in the chair before turning it to leave, "Shall we then?"

"If you like," Erik said, pushing the chair in front of him, using his powers to open and close the door.

Charles blinked a bit, settling his hands on his lap, "You know I can maneuver the chair on my own, right?"

"Yes?" Erik offered. "But you're tired today and it's no trouble for me, since I'm walking this way anyway. In fact, I could just push it with my mind."

"No need to show off, Erik." There was a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Well, I'm not, am I?" he asked, pushing the chair into the dining hall and glancing around.

"Not currently." Charles frowned a distinct lack of a couple of the students, _Alex, Sean, are you joining us for dinner?_

Alex entered at that moment, "Yes, Professor." He scowled at Erik, but took his normal place at the table.

Erik offered the student what he hoped wasn't a feral smile as he sat down, though he knew it verged hard on such. Standing in the doorway, Hank looked at him, stony faced, before placing the rest of the meal on the table.

Sean came in a couple of minutes later, absolutely freezing at the sight of Erik. Alex managed not to smirk at that, looking down at the table.

"Oh," Hank said, turning to Sean. "Forgot to warn you..." _Again._

Erik couldn't help but smirk then.

The redhead glanced at his classmates but warily took his seat, "Yeah, just a little."

"I'm sorry," Hank muttered, sitting down quickly. Erik swept into his chair.

Charles glanced around the table, his gaze resting on Erik for a moment, _You could try looking less pleased by this._

Erik smoothed his expression out slightly, looking over the other three.

Sean dished up some food, finally glancing at Erik, "...How're you?"

For a moment he didn't respond. "Well enough. Yourself?"

He shrugged, "okay."

"Well that was a most charming and enlightening exchange," Hank murmured.

Sean scowled at him, managing not to point out that at least he'd said something.

"And how are you two?" Erik asked, glancing between Hank and Alex.

Alex all but glowered at him for a moment before replying, "Fine. Aim's getting better."

Charles frowned slightly at that, "Alex..."

His gaze came up, and he attempted to look a bit innocent, "What?"

Erik just grinned at him. "Well, it might be interesting to see some time."

Alex shook his head, "Right, sure."

Hank shook his head at both of them. "Life continues as always," he said when Erik glanced at him.

Sean spoke again, "How's Raven?"

Hank's eyes darkened but Erik didn't turn toward him. "Well," he replied. "It's an adjustment, but she's adapting remarkably well."

The redhead considered asking something else, but turned back to his food first. He could face Hank, he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with Alex.

Erik considered them all again, and glanced over at Charles, barely managing not to do something inappropriate in front of the others.

Charles glanced at him, but his blue eyes moved quickly away as Alex rose, "Alex?"

"I just remembered that I forgot to get everything dealt with in the garage."

"It can wait. You've hardly eaten anything."

The blond frowned, his gaze locked with his professor's, but he finally sat down again.

Both Hank and Erik glanced over at him, Hank looking a bit apologetic. Erik just arched a brow.

Alex turned his focus to his food, ignoring the rest of the table.

"So, is there any topic of conversation we feel safe with, or shall we all sit here in awkward silence?" Erik asked, voice mild.

Sean shrugged, "You ask me this whole thing is awkward."

"It is," Erik agreed.

"Then why'd you come?"

Sean kicked Alex under the table, but shrank back at the look he got.

Erik gave him a long look. "Not for the conversation," he replied, Hank nearly choking on what he was eating. "At least, not yours."

Charles looked from Alex to Erik, sighing, his expression holding a reprimand. Though who it was for was unclear. Alex pushed his chair back, not saying anything this time, and left.

Hank followed his gaze and sighed softly. Erik followed his exit as well, and looked slightly ashamed, but not enough to go after him.

Charles sighed, rubbing his eyes. Wonderful.

Erik looked over at him for a moment, still eating. _I should go. This wasn't a good plan._

He sighed again, dropping his gaze and nodding, _I...suppose so._

_Would you rather I retreat here or leave?_Erik asked, glancing at him even as Hank frowned slightly at the pair.

_I would prefer you retreat here. I'll be along in a few minutes._

Erik rose, nodding at the others. "Lovely to see you again, send my regards to Summers," he said, and turned, all but swirling out.

Charles watched him go, glancing at the two still there, "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

Sean shrugged, turning back to finishing his meal.

"It's fine, Professor," Hank said. "Though, I should go see if Alex actually does want any dinner."

"Thank you, Hank. Tell him I'm sorry." He rolled back from the table, "I'll see you boys in the morning."

Hank arched a brow at that, but nodded, filling a plate with food before checking the patio and any other places Alex might have gone.

X-X-X

Alex looked up as Hank entered the underground bunker, "What?"

The larger mutant shrugged. "You didn't really eat, so I thought you might like to," he said, sitting down behind Alex and setting the plate to one side.

"Oh. Thanks."

Hank shrugged. "Well, I went through all the trouble of making food. It seemed a shame to let it waste."

Alex glanced at him, mumbling, "Sorry about that."

The blue mutant shrugged again. "It doesn't matter that much, Alex. I just wanted to make sure you ate, I suppose. You seem to take... his presence here particularly hard."

"He shouldn't be here."

"No, he probably shouldn't," Hank agreed.

"Why can't the professor see that?"

"They..." Hank paused. "Appear to be under the sway of some emotions that rise above reason."

"Oh for the love of-Just say it! Beyond all logic and sense the professor looks like he's either in love with or falling in love with the man who put him in a wheelchair-probably for life!"

"We're working on that," Hank pointed out. "Though God knows if he does walk again he'll probably always be a little weak there. But yes, they look like they're in love. No, I don't know how, or how they think they have a snowball's chance in hell. Why has it gotten you so twisted up?" Hank asked, managing to keep his voice calm.

"It isn't right, that's all." Alex answered, reaching for the plate Hank had brought.

Hank held it up for him, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. "How isn't it right? I mean, specifically?"

The blond took the plate, shrugging slightly, "How do we know we can trust him around the Professor? I mean...oh I don't know!"

Hank just watched him. "The one thing I would consider trusting him with is not hurting the Professor... intentionally. I just don't think he uses that brain on his head to realize how other people are going to react. And he's a bit of an insane, human-hating megalomaniac but... I don't think he sets out to hurt Charles. Anyone else I'm willing to believe is fair game."

"I just don't like having him here. And I don't think the Professor actually realizes that last bit of what you said. Maybe I'm wrong, but I sure as hell don't think so."

"I think our brilliant and empathetic Professor tries to see the best in people. Especially those he wants to see the best of."

"I think our brilliant and empathetic Professor is blind to the world."

"It's possible," Hank agreed after a moment. "I think you're remarkably bitter at the world though."

Alex glanced at him and shrugged, turning his attention to the food, "Prison'll do that."

Hank's eyes widened slightly. "Oh. I mean, I had heard that's where they found you but..."

He shrugged again, not saying anything further on the subject, He motioned to the plate, "It's good, thanks for dinner."

"Certainly," he replied and smiled a bit wryly. "You don't want to talk about it, do you?"

"Would you?"

"Probably not. But if something ever comes up... well, it's neither too difficult to find the kitchen or the lab, if you ever do."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm fine."

"Until you're not," Hank pointed out and rose. "At any rate, I need to go check up on those samples I was working on. You're welcome for dinner, and good luck on your practice."

"Yeah, good luck with whatever you're working on."

"Thank you," Hank replied, ruffling his fur before turning to return to his lab.

Alex watched him go before leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. He needed to calm down before practicing even.

* * *

><p>Thank you again from your authors Meadowlark and Victoriousscarf! We're glad to know so many are enjoying this bit of scribbling we've been doing. Thank you!<p> 


	8. Hardly Trading Secrets with the Enemy

_November 23__rd__, 1962_

Mystique was perched in Erik's office waiting for him. She'd been noticing his regular absences over the past months, and she wasn't the only one. She just happened to be the only one in the group she figured he'd actually answer. The shapeshifter looked up as the door opened.

Erik was paying more attention to the door than his office, helmet already back in place after coming from the mansion. He stopped abruptly, noticing the shapeshifter on his desk. "Why, Mystique," he said mildly, covering up the surprise. "What's going on?"

She gracefully slipped off of the desk, "You've been gone a lot, Erik."

"Been busy," he replied, watching her movements.

Her brow arched, "Where have you been?"

"Places," he replied, moving around to sit behind his desk. "I don't need to check in with you now, do I?"

She frowned, "I don't remember saying you did. The others are noticing too, though."

"Perhaps. But since I have found neither knives nor poison in my bed, I believe it is working out well enough."

"They're growing suspicious. And honestly, I can't blame them. You go off for hours at a time without a word and barely say three words to anyone around here."

"I speak more than Riptide," he replied, shuffling through the papers. "And I've been doing more than enough work. After all, we've not only gathered intel and technology, but due to Azazel managed to take out a key operative in covert operations against mutants. What more would anyone want?"

She sighed, settling on the corner of the desk again, "Maybe a leader who's present?"

He arched a brow at her. "I'm present," he replied. "But I didn't realize my life had to be tied here."

"You know what I mean, Erik." Living with Charles for so many years had given her his verbal tic of using someone's name when irritated or soothing, "You leave frequently enough that there are questions being whispered. I don't know how to divert them if I don't know what I'm covering for."

Erik shifted at that, looking her over. "I just want something that resembles a personal life. It's hardly like I'm trading secrets with the enemy." Not technically.

"Well, they think you are. Or that bitch does, and she's got powers to influence."

Erik narrowed his eyes. "And would it be possible for me to say anything to waylay those suspicions?"

"You're not exactly subtle, and as much as you like to think it sometimes, not an especially good liar. So probably not."

"I never claimed to be a good lair," he replied.

"True enough." She looked him over sighing again, "You come back in far better moods than when you leave—most of the time. What's going on, Erik?"

He frowned, looking at the papers in front of him. "My moods are that obvious?"

"Only to someone who knew you before. Maybe better isn't the right word. More efficient might be closer to the truth."

He frowned and leaned back, considering her for a long moment. "Charles still misses you," he said finally.

She sighed, dropping her gaze to her blue hands, "I miss him too. Tell him 'hi' next time you see him, would you?" Her golden eyes scoped over the German's face.

"Alright," he said. "Anything else or just that?"

She considered for a long moment and then shook her head, "How is he?"

"He... the shot paralyzed him from the waist down, so most of his energy is working with Hank to correct that, and rebuilding the mansion into a school," Erik replied, slowly, realizing this would be the first time she heard this.

Her eyes widened and her breath caught, "P-paralyzed?"

Erik nodded slowly.

"Oh, God...he-he's alright otherwise though?"

Erik nodded again. "As much as he can be, yes."

"Good," she nodded decisively, rising again. "Tell him not to overwork himself, you know how he can get. And for God's sake, go carefully, Erik. We don't need the others getting suspicious enough to start prying."

"I will," he said softly. "And yes, I've noticed how he gets."

She offered him a faint smile, "Well, I wish you luck then."

Hesitating for a moment, he offered her a smile in return. "Thank you."

The shapeshifter nodded and slipped out of the office, closing the door softly behind her. Erik sighed, resting his head in his hands. Well, brilliant.

_November 28__th__, 1962_

Hank glanced up from the braces he was still working on when he heard someone enter.

Sean came over, looking the braces over, "Hey."

"Can I do something for you?" he asked, adjusting the spectacles he finally managed to make to fit his new face.

The redhead shrugged, "Not really, just wondering if you've heard anything more about the professor's idea of starting this place up as a school."

"Ah, yes," Hank said. "I believe we are working on several issues, one of which is even how to find students."

"What d'ya mean?"

"Well, last time we found the lot of you out of Cerebro, which was destroyed rather thoroughly by Riptide during the attack on the CIA. The only other obvious mutants tend to be picked up by the police for causing damage, whether they meant to or not. And since we no longer have the backing the government, getting said mutants out of prison is much more difficult than it was when they went to fetch Alex. Thus, until we get a Cerebro up and running again, it is difficult to even find the students. Let alone how to refurnish the mansion to function as a school."

"Wouldn't the refurnishing come first? I mean...he'd need Cerebro or whatever right? And he can't use steps like I think that last one had. So...it would need to be something he could get to, right? Am I following so far?"

"I believe so," Hank replied. "One of the biggest things we need to deal with are putting in subbasements and lifts, which takes a lot of work on a location supposed to be secret."

"Well, we've got us, so we can see what we can find, right? I mean, the Professor understands the blueprints, you'd know what would need to be put in, and Alex's power maybe would work for excavating? I might be able to locate weak points...not really sure if I can do that, but I could try. We'd just need help with the constructing bit."

"Possibly a lot of it," Hank said and paused for a long, long moment. "... Erik's help would move the process along much more quickly, however... I am loathe to bring it up with him, let alone the Professor."

Sean thought about that for a bit, "Well, you don't want to, and we know Alex won't...I could suggest it. I mean, it's no skin off my nose if the Professor says yes or no to it, and even less if Erik does."

"I suppose so," Hank murmured, fidgeting with his tools.

"We'll need his help, or at least it would make it easier. Would also maybe mean we wouldn't need to deal with the risks of people who don't know about us, right?" Sean tilted his head on one side, almost bird-like as he asked that.

"For once, I strongly disapprove of the use in logic."

He shrugged, "Well, it's there. I can mention it anyhow. They both have to say yes after all."

"Very well," Hank said with a sigh.

"Well, really I just wanted to see where we were on that." He looked at the braces, "What are those?"

"Leg braces for the Professor," he replied and made a face. "Ratchet joints and all."

"Ratchet joints?"

"They allow the person in the braces to sit down," Hank replied. "Which assumes he can stand in the first place. Not to mention it makes the entire frame weaker and just..." he shook his head. "More difficult to manage. But he's not really the type to argue with."

"Guess that's true. Well, you have solid back-ups right?"

"Yes," Hank replied. "I suppose we do. He's a remarkably stubborn man though."

Sean shrugged, "It can be a good thing, though. After all, it might actually get him on his feet again."

"That is the goal," Hank replied, offering him a smile. "One we might just reach as well."

"See, so there are good things to that stubbornness."

"Yes, no matter how frustrating it is to try and talk to him while he's being such."

Sean laughed, "Well, good luck with him then."

"Thanks," Hank said, smiling wryly.

The younger mutant offered him a grin before slipping out of the lab, "See ya later."

Hank waved after him.

_December 2__nd__, 1962_

Alex got out of his car, locking it and looking around. It wasn't often he came into the city—New York wasn't exactly somewhere you went by yourself unless you lived there after all. He looked around the area. It had taken him forever to track down a place where he might be able to get something that Hank might like for Christmas. There was some part of him that questioned why he was doing this, but the fact that he'd already done so for Sean and the Professor was enough to silence that. Then again their gifts hadn't been this hard to find. He entered the bookstore, glancing up at the bell over the door—old fashioned brass, huh.

The blond came out of the store a few minutes later with the book he'd purchased wrapped in brown paper and carried carefully in his arms. God it was heavy. He considered if there was anything to add to the gift and grinned slightly at a thought, but he could get that in Westchester, fifteen minutes from the edge of the estate rather than an hour. He was almost to his car when he thought he saw someone he recognized. Turning, he came face to face with Angel—her dark hair swept back away from her face and a winter coat around her shoulders, but there was no mistaking her. Alex scowled as she approached him.

"Hey, Alex."

"What do you want?"

"Don't be like that. I saw an old friend and wanted to say hi."

"We're not friends, and we never were." He turned to continue on his way, but she reached out, catching his arm.

"Oh, don't be like that. We were all friends back when they found us."

"Yeah?" He yanked away from her, "Seems to me the only people you got along with were Raven and Darwin. And let's see…Raven's on your side and Darwin? Let me think…oh, yeah," The fake smile that he'd been wearing vanished, "your old boss killed him."

She drew back at that, "It's not like that was _my_ fault."

"No? If you hadn't gone near Shaw, Darwin wouldn't have felt the need to go after you."

"You don't get to point fingers, Summers! You were the idiot who gave Shaw enough power to blow Darwin up."

He tensed, drawing his hand back to hit her, but she just smirked and left.

Alex got in his car, tossing the book onto the passenger seat and trying to calm down. It wasn't working. He pulled away from the curb and drove back to the mansion, ignoring things like speed limits and the like. Once there he stopped the car and took off through the mansion into the bunker. He'd left the book in the car, but he really didn't care. Slamming the bomb shelter shut Alex fired off one of his blasts, not really caring what it did to the inside of the bunker at the moment, his adapter was upstairs but damn it he couldn't wait to grab it. He let off shot after shot until his energy was all but gone. He sank to his knees, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes and flames licking the sides and floor of the bunker.

Hank's ears had perked from the kitchen when he thought he heard Alex return. When the other didn't appear for almost an hour, and thus long past the normal dinner time, he made up a plate and started poking around the mansion for him. He took note of something that looked like a book in Alex's favorite car, but no sign of the other mutant himself. After that he weaved his way down toward the bunker, pausing when the door was shut. He knocked hard on it.

Alex startled at the sound, quickly running his hands over his eyes and getting to his feet to grab the fire extinguisher. He got to work on putting out the flames, calling just loud enough to be heard through the door, "Yeah?"

Hank poked his head through the door, and raised his brows at the flames. "Is your adapter not working?" he asked softly and held out the plate. "You missed dinner."

"I forgot to put it on," he replied. He glanced at the other, "Lost track of time."

Hank shrugged. "It's no problem. Do you want help with the fire extinguisher?"

"No. I got it. You'll get your fur lit up if you come in here too far."

"True, I suppose," Hank said, looking around the bunker. "Did... something happen?" he asked, taking a closer look at Alex's face.

He shook his head, turning his back under the pretense of dealing with a bit more of the fire, "No."

Hank leaned against the doorframe. "Are you certain?"

"Yes."

The blue mutant just frowned at him, still holding the plate and waiting for him to finish. "Did you at least have fun? You were going to New York, yes?"

He finished, though it took him slightly longer as his hand was shaking, "Yeah."

Hank frowned more at that. "Well. Anything interesting in our bustling city?"

"Would you leave off?"

"I..." Hank paused and just held the plate out.

Alex finally turned to face him, eyeing the blue mutant warily, but took the plate.

"It was small talk," Hank replied, crossing his arms. "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware it was going to set anything off."

"Sounded a lot like prying."

Hank shrugged. "Alright, a little. I can't help it. I talk to all of three other people on the majority of my days. The fourth one that comes around I'd prefer to kick out on the curb. It's been a long time since I've been to a big city, and I suppose I just wonder if I'll ever have the chance again. I miss the opera. I'm sorry it sounded like prying."

Alex looked away, "Sorry. Yeah, the city was fine."

"I think I've already said this, but if you ever need to talk, I am here for that. I mean, as I said, it's not like I have that much communication with people anymore."

"Yeah, I-I got that." He settled down on the floor, leaning his back against an un-scorched part of the wall and setting the plate down next to him. He drew his knees up to his chest.

Hank hesitated before sitting down next to him.

"I hate this."

"This?" Hank asked. "The bunker? Dinner? Living here?"

He shook his head, touching his chest where he usually wore the adapter. "This. I can't control it anymore than my temper."

Hank let out a long breath. "Oh Alex. You're learning to control it though. Yes, you got a very short stick in terms of powers, but at least you can walk into a street now. You've gotten so much better about it, and someday might not even need the adapter, though for now it's certainly a safer plan."

Alex laughed bitterly, shaking his head, "Yeah, dandy. I can go out in public where it can do a hell of a lot more damage if I let my control slip, or if someone gets in my head or...the list goes on."

Tilting his head slightly, Hank considered him. "Perhaps. You seem to hold up rather well about it usually..."

"Saw that bitch today."

Hank blinked. "That bitch?" he asked, unsure which one Alex was actually referring to, but taking a couple guesses.

"Angel." He spat out the name.

"Oh that one," he said, his own expression darkening. "You saw her?"

"Yeah. Ran into her on my way to my car."

"And was that what prompted... this?" he asked, waving a furred hand around the bunker.

Alex shrugged, finally nodding.

"I'm sorry," Hank said.

Alex shrugged again, "Doesn't matter."

"I would disagree, but would rather not be prying."

"It..." He shook his head, "I don't know. I've been blaming her, but what if it wasn't her?"

"For what?" Hank asked, guessing but rather not making assumptions.

"Darwin," the younger man spoke quietly.

"How could that possibly have been your fault?" Hank demanded.

"This damn power. Y-you remember what Shaw could do? Did you ever see it?"

"I knew he could absorb energy, but we were generally too panicked to see anything at that point," Hank said.

Alex drew a shaky breath, "I wasn't... He absorbed my blast. Compressed it down to the size of a big gumball a-and made Darwin swallow it."

Hank blinked in shock. "Our, Alex, I... we didn't know. I mean, we knew it was Shaw but you never told us and..."

He shrugged again, "It happened. Not the first time my power's done something I didn't want to. Probably won't be the last..."

"Not the first?" Hank asked softly.

"I-I..." He shook his head, curling further in on himself, his forehead coming to rest on his knees.

"Was..." Hank paused. "Something to do with where they found you?"

Alex hesitated, but nodded very slightly, "Y-yeah."

"Oh, Alex," he said softly.

"It...I killed a guy. When it first showed up I mean."

Hank shifted slightly closer to him.

"Just about took off my sister's head too...my folks turned me in."

"I'm sorry," Hank said, voice much lower.

"It happened. Isn't like they were my real folks anyhow," he was still mumbling into his knees.

"What?" Hank turned to look at him abruptly.

Alex flinched slightly at the motion, "It was my foster parents, and sister."

The larger blinked for a long moment, before hooking an arm around Alex's shoulders. "You weren't responsible for Darwin's death. I'm not sure you really were for the other man either. Foster parents or not, that was still wrong of them."

He shuddered at the touch, but leaned into it slightly, "I...I still killed them. M-maybe not directly, but I did."

Hank let out a breath, and gently tugged Alex closer, into an actual embrace. "Maybe. I'm not very good at philosophy or assigning blame to anything, I'm just a scientist. But I do know that you're caring, and very brave, and I'm glad to know you."

"I'm a danger to everyone around me and it was better for all concerned when I was in solitary."

"You're not, and it's not."

"I almost didn't make it back here before letting go." He glanced at the scorched walls, "I don't have any control over it."

"But you made it," he said. "It's a fairly long drive and you made it. That's what matters. You're learning that control."

Alex shook slightly, "Yeah, great, I can keep from blowing up for an hour. Doesn't do me any good if I can't use the power outside of a damn bomb shelter."

"Not yet," Hank said. "You're young, Alex. You're learning."

"I'm sick of this. I'm no further than I was before. Not without that adapter."

"Alright, so you have to rely on something else, and I'm sorry for that. But at least you have something. You give me a bit of time to finish with the Professor's leg braces, and I can see about streamlining the adapter a bit more. It's an obvious weakness, yes, but I think I might be able to get it flat enough to fit under clothing, so long as it's not, say, skin tight," Hank tried, moving his hand very slightly in small circles where it rested on Alex's back.

"It's metal, Hank. Did you forget who's been roaming around the mansion for a while now?"

"Yes, alright, it's terrible and I'm so sorry you had to deal with this," Hank sighed softly.

Alex started to draw away again, "I...God I sound ungrateful don't I..."

"No, I mean, a little, but it's understandable," Hank replied.

He sighed, "I...I should, I dunno, go get my stuff outta my car or something."

"You could," Hank agreed. "But... It is alright to cry, or scream, or lose your temper sometimes."

"Yeah we can see how well that goes," Alex motioned to the wall they were leaning against.

"Well, preferably under controlled circumstances," Hank said, offering him a faint smile and something rumbling in his chest. He didn't even notice. "But if you pent it up too much, it will come out in uncontrolled ways and well, that wouldn't end so well."

Alex swallowed hard, "I..."

"Hm?" Hank tilted his head slightly.

He leaned against the other again, his shoulders shuddering very slightly, "I don't know if I can keep this up."

Hank let out another breath, chest rumbling again. "You can," he tried to protest.

"I'm so tired of it," he swallowed again. He was not going to break down in front of the other mutant. He could do that when he was locked away by himself

"I... I don't know, but I suppose I can imagine," Hank said softly. And I still believe you can."

Alex smiled bitterly, "Thanks..."

Hank shifted again, gathering Alex into an actual embrace, both arms around his back.

Alex started to pull back, but hesitated as it sunk in exactly how much of a risk this could be for the other and _Hank still did it_. There was a safety and trust in the touch that he didn't expect, and certainly didn't think anyone would offer him—a ticking time-bomb—since he couldn't return it. He swallowed hard before leaning his forehead against the larger mutant's chest and letting the tears he could feel pricking the back of his eyes finally fall.

Hank blinked at that, pulling the other a bit closer. "You're alright," he murmured softly, and his chest rumbled again, and continued to do so.

The blond teen allowed himself to cry, feeling his emotions fade back into a dull ache after far longer than he liked. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision, managing a weak grin after a moment. "Are...are you purring?"

"Am I...?" Hank paused and glanced down. "Oh. I am. I wasn't aware I could do that."

Alex started to pull back again, wiping his eyes, "Guess you can. We knew you could roar, so I guess this isn't too far out there."

"I suppose not. If I start playing with cat-nip toys however, please stop me."

That got a laugh as Alex remembered the second half of the Christmas gift he was considering, "What, I can't take photos first?"

"One photo. If you swear to god you won't show it to anyone else. And even then you might find it mysteriously shredded."

Havok pulled back, grinning, "Right, like you could stop me taking more than one."

"At that point? You're right, I probably couldn't. They would definitely end up shredded then."

"You'd have to find them first."

"What? I couldn't sniff them out?" Hank asked, teasing.

"I'd hide them well. And make copies," Alex replied, still grinning.

Hank narrowed his eyes slightly. "You wouldn't dare."

"Wanna bet?"

"Actually, let's not," Hank said. "Ever. I'm still hoping to avoid such a fate."

Alex grinned, almost saying something else before realizing that he was teasing at least as much as Hank had been. He drew back abruptly, "Well, anyhow. Thanks for this."

Hank blinked at the abrupt mood change. "Yes. You're welcome. I know it's not much, but if you want me to start working on a new adapter design, I can. And I'm sorry about Angel."

He shrugged, "The current one's fine. It's more streamlined than the original anyhow. And I'll get over that eventually. I always do." The younger man hesitated, "Can we maybe not mention this to anyone?"

"I wasn't planning to," Hank replied with a small sigh.

"Thanks." He finally got to his feet, "I'd better go unload my car."

"Do you want help?"

Alex shook his head quickly, "No, it's not much."

"Alright," Hank said, rising. "Good luck with everything then."

"You too." He paused for a long moment, "Hey, have you considered trying to work up something to hide your fur?"

Hank glanced up. "Yes. The only thing I've really found possible would be something to... cover my appearance. Something to create an illusion, and I'm not sure if I can do it. After all, this started because I... wanted to look normal."

"I'm not knocking the blue look—it's you—but even just so you can go out for a while."

Hank offered him a small smile. "Yes. I am working on something. And... thank you."

Alex nodded before slipping out to get the book from his car. Hank sighed again, before rising and taking the plate back to the kitchen and retreating to the lab.

* * *

><p>Alright, so... Alex and Hank appear to be attempting to take over. We promise this is not the case (Erik and Charles are still the main thread holding this story together) but as the story expands from it's original one-shot status, we're dealing with a larger cast of characters, and building up different relationships, so we hope you all bear with us on that and enjoy the other characters as well.<p>

Also, your playlist for the fic so far:

"Antebellum" by Vienna Teng, "Hell to Your Doorstep" from the Count of Monte Christo Soundtrack, "Doorway" by IO Echo, "Eric's Song" by Vienna Teng, and "The Only Hope for Me is You" by My Chemical Romance. Among others. But that's to start you all off.

Cheers all, and thanks so much for your support and reviews!


	9. You Have Tinsel In Your Hair

_December 15__th__, 1962_

Erik entered the mansion through the door nearest Charles' room, slipping in. It was later in the evening, much later than he usually came, but he was trying harder to not be noticed by both sides.

Charles sensed him and excused himself from where he was overseeing some decorating in order to meet Erik in the hall to his rooms.

"Charles," he said, voice warming slightly and he paused. "You have tinsel in your hair."

"Hello Erik. I," he blinked, "What?"

"Tinsel," Erik said, and reached forward to flick it off. "In your hair."

Charles laughed at that, "Oh, I hadn't realized. I thought I'd gotten it all out."

The corners of Erik's mouth twitched up. "It made you look quite charming."

"Why thank you." He motioned to the rooms, "Shall we?"

"If you like," Erik replied, not offering to help with decorating, though he almost wanted to.

Charles considered for a long moment, "One minute." He closed his eyes, focusing on asking the students if they would be willing for another pair of hands helping with the decorating. Erik frowned down at him.

Charles opened his eyes again, "If you would like, we're welcome to join them in finishing up the interior decorating."

For a long moment, Erik just stared down at him. "Really now. I thought your students were still, well, leery of me to say the least."

"They're still wary, but Alex just told me you can join them. I call that progress."

"That is," Erik agreed. "If you're sure..."

"Only if you want to, Erik."

He nodded. "Certainly, I suppose. So, you're decorating the mansion for Christmas?"

Charles nodded, "Yes. I haven't been here for Christmas for a few years, but it's fuller now than it was then. I felt it appropriate that we celebrate."

Erik nodded, following him back the way he's come. "Yes. It... seems like a good plan."

He glanced up, "Something on your mind, my friend?"

"Several, but I'm not entirely sure what to say about any of them."

Charles rolled into the foyer looking over the garlands that Sean was stringing around the banisters. The redhead looked up as the two older men came in. He offered his professor a smile, his expression growing wary, but amiable enough, as he glanced at Erik.

Erik inclined his head at him, looking around. "It looks... nice," he said, Hank looking at him from around the tree he was starting to put ornaments on.

Alex looked up from the ornament box, handing Hank one that looked like it had come from the mid-Victorian era. He glanced from Charles to Erik and finally rose, hesitating for a moment, "I was going to go make some hot cocoa. I know Sean wants some, how about the rest of you?"

Hank offered him a smile and nodded and Erik inclined his head. Charles nodded slightly and Alex slipped out of the room, heading to get the water to boil and the chocolate made.

Erik watched him go and glanced over the mostly empty tree. "That's a very tall tree you have there," he remarked.

"We've enough ornaments for it, and as you can see it's still shy of the ceiling with enough room for a topper," Charles replied, rolling his chair over to the boxes of ornaments, some of which he couldn't remember seeing since before his father died.

Erik smiled faintly. "You do seem to have enough ornaments, that's true." He considered them for a moment, the metal of their hangers humming in his mind. "Do you have any idea how to get them up there, and which ones you'd prefer on top?"

"Well, there's a ladder in the garage, but I don't believe it's seen use in quite some time. At the moment I haven't any idea where any particular ornament should hang. I've been leaving that to Alex and Hank mostly," the telepath smiled slightly, considering the ornament he'd picked up from the box on the coffee table.

Erik glanced over at Hank, who only shrugged at him, before floating a few of the ornaments up by their hangers, putting them on the higher branches.

Charles watched him quietly, holding out the ornament he held in his hand, "If you would, Erik?" Erik glanced at him before floating it up as well.

Alex came in a few minutes later, setting the tray with the five hot chocolates on the coffee table, some peppermint sticks he'd managed to find were next to the mugs in case anyone wanted them. He picked up his mug and hesitated before picking up another and offering it to Hank quietly. Hank accepted it with a smile, still working on the lower branches as Erik filled the top half of the tree.

Alex turned to the boxes of decorations, seeing if there was anything besides the tree decorations and the garlands that Sean had apparently just finished with. The redhead came into the room, picked up a mug of cocoa and a peppermint stick and knelt to join Alex.

For the moment Erik was more focused on the ornaments than the hot chocolate, but Hank stepped back by the Professor's chair, sipping his own cup and watching the others for a moment.

Charles glanced up at his student, _A penny for your thoughts?_

_It's... homey,_ Hank replied. _I'm not sure any of us are used to that._

_Sean seems to be mostly at home in this sort of atmosphere. If a bit wary of Erik, though I can't fault any of you for that._

_Alright, Sean looks fine. I know I'm not, Alex doesn't look like it, Erik certainly looks like he's not sure what to do with it, and honestly I wonder the last time you celebrated Christmas like this_.

_I decorate every year._ Charles replied as he looked at the others, _and no, I don't suppose Alex would be from what I know of him. And Erik...oh._

_Oh?_ Hank asked, taking a sip and still watching the others. _And no, from what Alex's said of his... foster parents I don't believe this was normal fare._

Charles stirred his chocolate with one of the peppermint sticks, just enough to add a faint taste before setting the hard candy aside, _I highly doubt Erik has ever celebrated Christmas before._

Hank's brows rose slightly, and Erik glanced over at him from where he was trying to get the star in place on top of the tree. _Oh?_

The telepath offered Erik a smile before taking a sip of his drink. He hesitated before answering Hank, _He's Jewish._

Hank blinked. _He's German I thou—oh. Oh. Well then._

Charles nodded almost imperceptibly, _He had more than one reason to hate Shaw so passionately._

Hank took another sip of the drink as Erik came over, finally picking up his own cup. _He makes more sense now. Doesn't mean I want to forgive him anything, but he makes a whole hell of a lot more sense now._

_Forgiveness takes time, understanding helps though._

Hank sighed and nodded slightly as Erik approached, arching a brow at both of them. "Having a good conversation?" Hank shrugged, slipping off to finish the lower branches.

Charles offered him a bright smile, "Actually, yes. How are you?"

"Fine," Erik replied, leaning against the table and giving the tree a slightly strange look.

The telepath looked up at him, but turned his attention to Sean as the teen looked up, "Professor do you have a-"

"It's likely there's still a box in the attic," Charles answered.

The redhead was on his feet and headed out of the room almost before the man finished.

Erik blinked at that. "You're enjoying not having to hide your powers, aren't you?"

"I..." He grinned a bit sheepishly, "Perhaps a little."

Erik shook his head, smiling a bit fondly.

"Well, I think this is about finished?" He glanced at Alex and Hank.

Alex nodded slightly, withdrawing a wreath frame and blinking in confusion at it.

Hank reached over. "It's to make a wreath," he said. "Would you like to?"

Alex handed it over, shrugging. "I wouldn't know how," he finally admitted.

"Well, make one in the way of showing you," Hank said with a shrug and looked at the others. "Do we want a wreath?"

Charles nodded slightly, "A wreath is always a nice addition to the front door."

Grinning, Hank meandered off to start dealing with that. Alex hesitated before rising and following him, casting a wary glance at Erik as he left.

"Well, he didn't storm out this time," Erik remarked, watching him go

"Very true. It's progress," Charles agreed. He glanced up at the German, "Shall we?"

Erik nodded, giving the tree and everything one last look before turning and heading toward Charles' room.

Charles followed him, waiting until they were in his room before speaking softly, "I appear to not have really been thinking again."

"Oh?" Erik asked, leaning against the desk.

He paused for another moment, changing his question, "What are you doing for the holidays?"

"That hardly explains your inability to think things through, but I've made no plans."

"Well...I..." He couldn't find a way to say it or ask it without seeming more than a tad insensitive and so fell silent again.

"What is it Charles?"

"When does Hanukkah start, Erik?"

Erik gave him a long look. "I don't know," he replied, voice turning slightly cold.

Charles pursed his lips rather than flinch at the tone, "I was curious, Erik. That's all."

Erik sighed and looked away. "That... memory you saw, before the missile crisis... that was the last time I paid the holiday any attention."

"I...oh. I see."

Erik shrugged. "It's nothing, Charles. Did you really expect me to keep it up? I'm sure I've broken the majority of the Torah's laws by this point." Not that he even remembered most of them.

"There's a difference between celebrating a holiday and practicing the religion." He paused, realizing that may be his own sensibility rather than one some would share.

Erik gave him another long look. "Not that one. At least not after that."

Charles wet his lips, he really was incapable of thinking before speaking that evening. He nodded very slightly, "I suppose that's true..."

Erik shook his head. "Look, it's not your fault. But I'm not inclined to dredge up that ghost this year, if ever."

"Fair enough. I am sorry I didn't think before bringing it up."

Erik shrugged again. "So, no, there are no plans."

"Well, we...we could see about making some? If you like of course."

"I would... hardly be adverse."

Charles glanced toward the couch, "How long can you stay?"

Erik shifted. "Last I left the team they were attempting to finish of the entire alcohol stock. As long as I like by tomorrow morning."

A brow arched in response to that, "Well, that sounds...thrilling."

"Which part?" Erik asked, smirking.

"Your team drunk. The other part of that sounds very much like something to look forward to."

"Yes, rather thrilling. You'll notice I'm not there. But are you now?"

"Looking forward to you staying for a while? Very much so."

Erik shifted from where he was leaning against the desk. "Can I stay the night? I like the idea of seeing you first thing in the morning."

"I..." Charles considered briefly before offering Erik a gentle smile, "I would like that."

"Not that," Erik shrugged, "we have to do anything. Just... I would like to stay."

The telepath nodded, "I would love for you to stay."

Erik offered him a grin. "Well, we have time then."

Charles smiled a bit at that, "Good."

"A chess match?" Erik asked.

"Chess sounds like a wonderful idea." He motioned to the chess table to one side of the room, "Shall we?"

Erik moved over, making sure the pieces were in the right places before sitting.

The smaller man, rolled his chair over so he was facing Erik across the table, "your start I believe."

Erik moved the piece out. "It occurs to me, you usually choose black. Why is that?"

Charles moved a piece, "There's a lot to be said about patience. And a great deal to be seen about a person by how they start a game."

"Rather," Erik replied, moving a piece in return and settling into the rhythm of the game.

Charles allowed the silence to lengthen for a few moves before he spoke again, "Sean came to me a few days ago with an interesting proposal."

"Oh?" Erik asked.

"Well, you know I've been meaning to turn the estate into a school, there's more than enough room and the grounds go on for miles—far enough that fliers would be able to practice without fear of discovery—the problem is locating them. Which of course means rebuilding Cerebro...Which means the installation of the subbasements."

"Yes," Erik said slowly.

"I've been finding maps pre-dating the Civil War which seem to evidence a veritable warren of tunnels under the estate grounds that could be used as a basis. With Alex's power it could be viable to start excavations—my one concern is the precision required in some places. The difficulty is the actual construction."

"Yes, that would be rather difficult," Erik said, moving another piece.

Charles moved a pawn out, "Would you be willing to help with that?"

That brought the German up short for a moment. "Are you sure you want to ask me?"

"I wouldn't have if I wasn't."

"I suppose not," Erik murmured, looking down at the board. "I... would give you any help you asked of, so long as the times aren't too apparent."

Charles offered him a gentle smile, "Thank you. It won't be for a while yet, we still need to see if it's even a viable plan at this point."

Erik nodded. "Just let me know."

"I will. How are things going for you?"

Erik shrugged. "Things are going well enough. It seems like they're settling as well."

"Good to hear. No fear of knives or poison then?"

"Well, the knives were long out. And the poison is getting less likely from most quarters, yes."

"Good. I'm glad."

Erik nodded, moving another piece. "Would you like me to take anything to Raven for you?"

"At the moment I can't think of anything."

"For the holidays?"

"I haven't anything yet for her. Though..." He considered, "There are a couple of ornaments she always liked."

Erik paused and nodded. "I did finally tell her I was coming to see you."

He looked up, his eyes lightening perhaps more than he intended, "Oh?"

"She can be quite obstinate," he replied. "I blame your bad influence entirely."

Charles laughed quietly at that, "She's always been like that."

"Sure she has," Erik smiled, the corners of his mouth twitching up. "I still blame you."

"I take pride in the fact that I encouraged it, but she had the starting of that stubborn streak when I met her."

"So, I'm assuming you aren't blood siblings then."

"Hm? Oh, no. I found her in the kitchen stealing food from the refrigerator when we were both quite young. She was using my mother's form."

Erik blinked and couldn't help a laugh at that. "Wait, really?"

Charles smiled at the memory, "Yes, pearls and all. She'd seen her in a photograph hanging nearby and figured it was a good choice. Might have worked too if not for two things: I'm a telepath and my mother wouldn't have been caught dead in that kitchen."

Erik arched a brow at that, filing it away slightly. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk about your mother?"

He shrugged, "Not much to say really. She was a beautiful woman."

"Surely you have more memories of your mother?" Erik protested softly.

He thought for a moment before nodding, rolling his chair back to locate something from his desk and returning with the photograph that had hung in the kitchen the night he had met Raven, "I remember when this was taken. It was a beautiful day. Father took it. I remember them both being very happy to be there, I think the weather played some part in that. We ended up at the far end of the lawn for a picnic...or as close as we got to one I suppose."

Erik smiled at the picture. "There. How often do you remember that memory?"

"What do you mean?"

"How often do you think about your mother fondly?" Erik asked.

"Often enough," he hedged. "Why all of the questions?"

Erik paused, moved his piece and shrugged. "You helped me remember something about my mother I'd forgotten. I'm just curious about you I suppose."

Charles moved one of his knights, "Honestly I haven't many memories of her. She was often distant, busy with her social commitments."

"I'm sorry," Erik said softly. "On the other hand, at least you have a few."

He shrugged very slightly, "It was what it was." His gaze swept over Erik's face, but he didn't say the next thing that followed in his mind.

"What is it, Charles?"

"Hm? Oh...nothing."

"Alright," Erik said and considered the board again.

"What was your father like?" The question slipped out before he could stop it.

Erik paused. "He was... careworn. Intelligent, a businessman. Of course, by the time I was born the Nazi party was already in power and by the time I can remember him... he was worn down from pain. But he tried. He was the one to teach me chess as a child. He didn't survive the camps either."

Charles dropped his gaze to the board, nodding very slightly.

Erik looked away and back to the board. "I've never heard you discuss your father except for the picture," Erik said, voice quiet.

The telepath smiled sadly at that, "He was a nuclear scientist. A gentle man. He loved my mother far beyond what she deserved some days. It didn't seem to matter how busy he was, he always had time to listen. He loved Raven for the little time he knew her. He died in an accident just after I turned eleven."

"He sounds rather wonderful, as far as fathers go," Erik said.

Charles nodded, "He was."

"I'm sorry."

"It was what it was," he repeated with a shrug.

"Still," Erik shrugged. "Check."

He moved his king out of danger, "Well then."

"Well, we've walked on eggs over holidays and parents," Erik replied, moving another piece. "Any other topic one would let to get out there?" He was mostly teasing.

That earned a faint laugh, "Well, fractionally less eggshell-like, I'm beginning to regain some feeling in my legs. It hasn't happened much outside of the tests, but it's progress."

Erik stopped and slowly looked Charles over. "Good," he said, voice low.

Charles sighed, "You really shouldn't hold onto this..."

Erik's look changed slightly. "I am, and I'm not. There are a variety of reasons I'd like you to regain your legs."

One brow arched at that, but the telepath nodded. Erik swallowed, moving another piece. Charles countered it, "Check."

The German moved his piece out of danger.

The game continued mostly in silence for a while, the smaller man unable to find anything he wished to say at the moment and not finding the lack of conversation uncomfortable.

Erik settled back, not enjoying the silence quite as much, but surprisingly comfortable with it. The game ended finally, and he glanced up.

Charles looked up as well, "Hm?" Erik smiled at him fondly and shook his head. Charles glanced toward the clock, "Goodness, it's gotten late."

Erik's eyes turned toward the clock and back, smiling fondly at him. "It has."

"Shall we?" He asked quietly, offering a gentle smile, his gaze drifting to the bedroom attached to the room they were in.

The taller paused for a very long moment. "If you like."

Charles studied him for a moment before nodding, "It's been another long day."

"You have a lot of those," Erik said, rising and moving over.

"Well, I've a lot that needs to be done in any given twenty-four hour period."

"You do," Erik agreed, entering the bedroom and glancing around. "But you do need to relax too."

Charles entered behind him, "I do relax." His gaze swept over the room. It was beginning to more closely resemble his old chambers, but there was still something odd about sleeping in rooms other than the ones he had been in his whole life.

Turning, Erik sat down on the edge of the bed, watching Charles. "Good."

The telepath wheeled over to the dresser, glancing back at the other, "I might be able to find pajamas that will fit you." He hesitated, "Though the clothes you left here are still upstairs. I haven't been able to get up there and I don't believe the boys have been in your room since then either."

Erik swallowed hard suddenly. "I hadn't even thought of that," he murmured. He was too used to abandoning possessions along the way to think about recovering them.

Charles glanced away, opening one of the drawers to locate his own nightclothes. "So, if you wish for them, they're still in your old room."

"You're assuming I actually own nightclothes, aren't you?"

"I..." That earned him another glance. The telepath just blinked at him, "You don't?"

"It's not particularly practical when you own one suitcase and travel the globe," Erik replied.

"Oh. No, I don't suppose it would be..." he turned back to the dresser, hoping to hide the faint blush on his cheeks.

Erik raised a brow at that and shrugged.

Charles withdrew his own nightclothes, hesitating for a long moment. It was a major struggle to deal with them on his own, to the point that he would forgo them occasionally, but he wasn't certain he should ask Erik to help him with them.

Erik looked him over. "Would you like help?" he asked softly.

He closed his blue eyes, struggling with the answer for another long moment before nodding, "Please."

Erik rose, coming over. "It's no trouble, Charles," he murmured.

He sighed, "I know. I just hate feeling helpless."

The taller frowned and ran a hand through Charles' hair. "You're not helpless," he said. "But I know."

Charles leaned into the touch for a moment before allowing the other man to help him change.

Erik kept his movements quick, trying not to dwell on changing the other.

Once that was finished, Charles drew back as best he could, murmuring, "Thank you..."

"Of course," Erik murmured and finally allowed himself to lean over and kiss Charles lightly.

The telepath hesitated, but leaned up into the kiss after a moment.

"Is something the matter?" Erik asked softly.

"No, everything's fine."

Nodding, Erik leaned forward again slightly.

Charles' hand came to rest on Erik's cheek as he leaned up as much as he could to meet the other.

Erik reached down, pulling him up higher, and picking him up finally, holding him in his arms.

Charles startled at that, but didn't break the kiss even as he mentally protested. _I am quite capable of moving from the chair to the bed, Erik..._

"You're more than capable," Erik replied, pulling back slightly. "But I want to do this."

The telepath frowned, but finally nodded, "Alright..."

Erik set him on the bed and followed, nuzzling slightly against his shoulder.

He smiled faintly in response, his other hand coming up to run over the German's hair.

Erik smiled faintly. "I... do love you, Charles."

Charles tilted his head enough to kiss the other man lightly, "And I you, Erik."

Erik hummed softly against the kiss. The telepath's hand shifted so he could trace his thumb over Erik's cheekbone. Erik tilted his head into the touch, arms wrapping around Charles' waist and holding him. Charles drew back slightly from the kiss, leaning his head on Erik's shoulder. One of Erik's hands slipped up his back to gently stroke his hair. He leaned into the touch, the comfort of the other's arms around him soothing. He settled an arm over Erik's waist, even as he blinked slowly, trying to keep himself awake a bit longer.

"Go to sleep," Erik murmured.

"I..." Charles nodded finally. "You too," he murmured drowsily.

"No worries," Erik said, kissing the top of his head slightly. "I don't think I could stay up if I wanted to."

"Good." He finally settled down, allowing himself to drift off.

Erik drifted off shortly afterward, though about the middle of the night something stirred him from that sleep.

Charles made a quiet noise of pain in his sleep. Mentally he was screaming. The pain from the coin throbbed in his mind again—the ache that had followed Shaw's death. It was the end of the day on the beach, with one grave exception—the missiles. He could feel the minds of the men on the ships as they fell to nothingness. He hadn't been able to stop it. He hadn't been able to save them. He had waited too long. The deaths echoed in his already reeling mind as the bullet entered his back, pain racing up his spine as his legs collapsed.

Erik blinked sleep from his eyes, getting random flashes and overwhelming pain being streamed directly into his mind. It took him a moment to register where he was, before shaking Charles hard.

The telepath startled awake, his eyes wide as he tried to place his surroundings. It took him a minute, the warmth next to him unfamiliar and disorienting. "E-Erik?"

"Yes," he said, voice soft. "Calm your mind, Charles."

The young professor drew a deep breath carefully pulling the memory of his dream back behind his shields, concentrating on calming his own mind before sending out a similar calm to any other minds he had effected.

Erik frowned down slightly at that. "How often?"

"What?"

"How often do you have nightmares?" _Specifically that one?_

"Nightmares aren't infrequent. Every few nights, sometimes more sometimes less. It depends on the day and how the week has been."

Erik took a breath, smoothing Charles' hair back. "And how often does that particular one feature?"

He hesitated, "That particular one... shows up in variants. It's recurrent, but it's not the most frequent."

Erik took a deep breath.

Charles finally looked up, his hand moving to rest on the other man's cheek, "Are you alright?"

"No," he replied, honestly. "But I will be."

"I am sorry about that. I don't mean to project those."

Erik shook his head slightly. "I'm... sorry you have them."

"I've had nightmares for years. These will fade with time, just as those did."

"Until you find something new to replace them with?" Erik asked.

"That could be a very long time, and these will still fade," he spoke with more confidence than he felt on the matter.

Erik took a breath, pressing a kiss on the top of Charles' head.

Charles turned his face to Erik's chest, "Thank you."

"For?" he asked, voice wavering more than he'd like.

"Being here. I'm sorry you had to see that, but...it's a comfort to have someone there when waking from it."

Erik let out a long breath. _I want to be here every night._

"I..." _I wish you could be._

The taller gathered him closer to his chest, holding on tighter. _Charles..._

The telepath closed his eyes again, one hand resting on Erik's chest, the other wrapped around his waist, _Oh, Erik._

Erik took in one breath, and let another out. "I love you," he murmured against Charles' hair.

"I love you too. So much."

Erik tightened his grip slightly. "We're a mess."

"I..." He smiled bitterly, "Yes, we are. But there isn't anything we can do about that."

"No," Erik agreed. "Can you go back to sleep tonight?"

"I think so? What time is it?"

"I haven't checked," he said and lifted his head slightly. "Four ten."

"The alarm goes off in a little under two hours. I can probably get back to sleep in that time."

"You wake up early," Erik sighed, shifting them into a slightly new position, still holding Charles against him.

"If I don't I won't get up," came the answer as the smaller man adjusted to the new position.

Erik hummed softly. "Try to sleep then," he said.

"Will you be able to sleep again?"

"Yes," Erik replied, stroking his hair again and maybe only half lying. It would take him a while but he should be able to manage. If not, well he was used to not getting that much sleep.

Charles arched a skeptical eyebrow, invisible in the dark but mentally present, settling for nodding and trying to get back to sleep.

* * *

><p>A couple notes from your history major of a writer VS: Based on the age the actor looked at plus still having Erik be in his twenties (though rather late twenties) in the film, he would be about nine in 1944. (However, that doesn't actually make sense since the children where the ones sent to be gassed in the camps and it was implied it was his parents in the first X-Men movies, but in this one his mother was a worker instead so hey, whatever, we're saying he was nine when he met Shaw.) If he was 9 in 1944, he was born sometime around 1935, which was after Hitler came into power in 1933 and about the same time the Nuremberg Laws were passed in 1935.<p>

And at this point he's very much not a practicing Jew. I just can't see him being so, not just because of the camps but of what he did afterwords as well. Hank also put things together because he paid attention in history class and can figure out about how old Erik is. He figures there's no way that didn't affect Erik someway, though of course he doesn't actually know what happened.


	10. Our Illustrious Leader

_December 17__th__, 1962_

Azazel slid into the seat at the table, glancing around. "Our illustrious leader appears to have gone missing again," he remarked, Emma and Riptide sitting across from him.

"He's been doing that a lot in the last couple of months," Emma replied, fluffing her hair.

The demonic-looking mutant nodded, swirling his drink around with one hand. "Does anyone of us know where he goes?"

"He wears the helmet too much," Emma said, sounding petulant. "I can't read him, and even when I can get a read on little Mystique… I can't seem to pin her down long enough to find out if she knows either and it's damn difficult to read her."

"Why?" Riptide asked, sounding mildly curious as he worked his way through the lasagna in front of him.

Emma waved an annoyed hand at Azazel. "The same reason I can't seem to get much of a read on him. Being a teleporter, he's always in a semi-teleported state, which makes him damn hard to get a lock on." Azazel grinned, showing his teeth. "As far as I can tell, she works in much the same way, all her cells constantly ready to change at a moment's notice. It's damn annoying, that's what it is."

Riptide considered and went back to his food, eying Azazel's martini with mild curiosity, as if considering whether he wanted to go through the effort to make himself one or not.

"So, what you mean to say is… we still have no idea where dear Magneto has been sneaking off to?" Azazel remarked, taking another sip as Emma shook her head. "Well that's a mystery. Shaw may have been an arrogant ass on the best of days," the demon continued, earning a glare from Emma. "But at least we usually knew where we stood with him. Do this, here's our plan, our end goal is this. Lehnsherr may pay lip service to the same ideals, but damn me if his footing isn't shakier."

"He keeps us busy," Riptide said, voice still mild.

"Busy is hardly a worthy end goal," Azazel replied. "Sure, we've been doing things. Getting information, killing a few idiots in the military and other places, but he's moving too damn slow to be taking over any worlds."

"He's a baby, starting out," Emma seethed.

"Why are we following a baby then?" Azazel asked.

Riptide replied by giving him a long look. "What?" the demon protested.

"Who else would we follow? Besides, he is young, the closest Shaw had to a protégée, and more powerful than you," the other mutant replied and went back to eating.

"Well, we have one vote in favor," Azazel said.

"We were voting?" Riptide returned.

"He's a bastard," Emma said.

"So was Shaw," Azazel remarked, tail swishing lazily behind him, Martini held loosely in one hand. "He was just more brutal about it. Lehnsherr hasn't let go of his kid gloves yet."

"Are we sticking around until he does?" Emma asked, fluffing her hair again.

The red skinned mutant shrugged. "I don't mind sticking around. He's… interesting. Has a magnetic personality even, one could say. Beside, his little follower is entertaining. Perhaps I don't mind giving him more time. You, of course, are free to leave whenever you like."

"And do what?" Emma demanded.

"Then stay, Miss Frost," Azazel grinned. "But it's hardly any problem for me, one way or another."

"What about that other recruit?" Riptide asked.

"Angel?" Emma snorted and the mostly quiet mutant nodded.

"Hell if I know," Azazel said and shook his head. Riptide shrugged, and fell silent again, finishing his food and rising, leaving the other two. They shared a look and Azazel finished the martini before leaving as well. For a long while Emma just glared at the door, seething at life in its entirety.

_Christmas Eve, 1962 _

A young auburn-haired woman knocked on the door to the mansion. Sean answered the door his brows rising, she spoke before he could, a soft lilt to her voice, "Hello, I was wondering if Charles Xavier was here? I'm an old friend."

Sean eyed her warily, "I think so...come in I'll see if I can find him."

She stepped inside, hazel eyes roaming over the entry way, her attention drawn to the Professor's approach, "Charles."

His blue eyes lit up at the sight of her, "Ra-chel." He rapidly revised as he registered Sean's presence fully, "What a pleasant surprise. What brings you here?"

"I wanted to wish you a merry Christmas, my dear Charles." She moved over, leaning down to hand him a small package and kiss his cheek very lightly. Her eyes flickered to the wheelchair and regret passed briefly across her features.

He swallowed, reaching over to catch her hand before she could draw back, "It's so very good to see you." _I'm fine._

_I would hardly call_this_'fine', Charles._ "And you. I've missed you."

Sean looked from one to the other in confusion, but retreated to finish his wrapping.

Humming something that sounded almost like a Christmas Carol under his breath, Hank emerged from the lab on his way to the kitchen. He stopped short when he saw someone he didn't recognize talking to Charles, remembering his blue fur and hit a side table hard in his haste to back up.

The young woman looked up at the sound, her gaze scoping over him, but she didn't react to his appearance beyond a slight smile. Charles followed her gaze, his relief at seeing her almost palpable, but didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry," Hank started. "I-I... I..." he trailed off, frowning slowly as he considered her.

"It's quite alright, Hank," the Professor replied, watching as his student's expression changed. Damn it.

Still frowning, head titled to the side, Hank slowly approached, leaning toward her slightly. "You..." he started, not sure how to finish that.

She eyed him, but managed not to take a step back, "Yes?"

He glanced from Charles to her. "I'm terribly sorry if I'm wrong and this comes across as being very rude, but as you can probably guess by my appearance I'm not quite human. And one of the things I've been noticing about my changed state is an increased sense of smell... and honestly with Erik floating in here whenever he feels like, it would not terribly surprise me if Raven followed. So... in that case... Raven?"

She glanced at Charles for a moment before sighing and returning to her natural skin tone and hair color, leaving it shifted so she was at least wearing clothes. She felt her brother's thanks at that.

Hank stared at her for a long moment, unable to actually think of anything to say.

She glanced from him to Charles, "I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas. I'll be on my way now."

Hank just continued staring at her.

The telepath hesitated for a long moment, "Your things are still in your room if you want any of them." _You don't have to leave._

"I..." She bit her lip, "I don't have much use for the clothes, and nowhere to keep the other things..." _I'm not going to stay, Charles. I just came by to give you that gift._

He sighed, dropping his gaze, "I'll keep them for you, if you ever change your mind." _Please, Raven?_

Hank took an abrupt step back and left, heading back for the lab rather than the kitchen like he'd originally been intending.

Raven watched him go, sighing, "Thank you, Charles. Take care." _I can't. Maybe we'll see each other again soon._

He offered her a faint smile, "And you, Raven. You know you've always got a-"

She cut him off, not wanting to hear the offer, for fear she'd take it, "I know. Merry Christmas."

-_Home here._ "Merry Christmas."

The shapeshifter returned to the form she came in and slipped out before she could take a bite of the temptation to stay.

X-X-X

Alex tapped on the door to the lab a couple hours later. He didn't wait for an answer before entering and setting a plate of food down near Hank, "This is a change."

Hank looked up from his microscope. "Hm? Oh?"

"You missed dinner." He motioned to the plate, "Figured I'd bring you some. You okay?"

"Hm? Fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? I missed the time..."

Alex didn't look like he believed him, but he shrugged, "Okay. What're you working on?"

"I'm looking over Raven's cells again," he said, frowning. "Trying to see where the serum went wrong..."

"...What brought that on?"

"Besides the fact I see a stranger and my heart stops beating for a moment?" He looked away again. "She stopped by today."

Alex scowled, "She what?"

"She wanted to wish her brother a Merry Christmas. It's not like she doesn't know where we are. And she did attempt to hide it."

"Still." He paused for a moment, "So what's the purpose of trying to figure out where the serum went wrong?"

"To reverse it," he replied.

The blond hesitated for a long moment, "Hank?"

"What?" he asked, already back at the microscope.

"Well..." He bit his lip, "it's not that I don't think you can get this to happen, after all that brain of yours works better than anyone's I know except maybe the Prof. It's just...what if it goes wrong again? What happens then?"

Hank all but slammed his hands on the table, either side of the microscope. "I don't know!" Alex startled back a bit at that. Hank leaned back, rubbing a hand over his eyes, the other having removed his spectacles. "I'm sorry, Alex."

The younger man moved over cautiously, "Don't be." He sighed, absently moving his hands up to rub Hank's temples from behind before he could think better of it.

Hank stiffened at that. "Alex?"

He realized what he was doing and quickly drew back, "Sorry..." Hank titled his head back to look at him. Alex took another step back, "Sorry. I..."

Hank took a breath and looked at him again. "It... it's fine." He barely managed not to bring his hand up to feel the place where Alex's had been.

"I wasn't kidding the other day," he murmured.

"About what?" Hank asked.

"The blue. You look good, Hank."

The other stared at him for a long moment before looking away. "I look good? How can I look good like this? I can't even go outside. If I ever went into a town, I'd probably be run out with pitchforks and torches."

Alex moved hesitantly forward again, running his fingers through Hank's silky fur, "I can't explain it, but you do." He sighed, "So find something to hide it so you can go out—but not something that risks you like that serum."

Hank swallowed hard. "Why?"

"What?" His hand stilled again.

"Sorry, there were a lot of different questions in there," Hank said softly. "Why would you be concerned about the serum? Why don't you mind?"

Alex drew his hand away from Hank's fur, "Well, look what happened last time, Hank. We're a team, even if we don't always get along. We can't lose you to this."

"Right," Hank said, drawing back ever so slightly without actually moving away. "At that point I wonder why I ever try to continue with science."

Alex frowned, "What?"

"Considering how well my last science project went?"

"The one before that saved lives," Havok reminded him softly, resisting the urge to touch his chest where the adapter usually was.

"Well, I have some success then. And if my next attempt turns out as badly as this one?"

"Science is trial and error, isn't it?"

"And when I don't have time for trials, and mess up?"

"Then we'll be here for you." Hank cast his eyes down slightly. "I just...Do you really want this so bad you'd risk your mind?"

"I don't know," Hank replied softly. "Some days I think so."

Alex sighed, hesitating before nearing again, resting a hand on Hank's shoulder, "Can't you just cover it?"

"I don't know. I'm trying."

"How?"

"I... I've been working with the theory behind an image inducer," Hank said finally. "A creative illusion that would make people think they were looking at something else. But I don't even know if it can be done..."

"But it could be, right?"

"Maybe," he said, looking down again.

Alex let his finger run along the fur on Hank's neck, but he paused realizing what he was doing.

Hank blinked at that again. "Did you have a beloved cat as a child or something that was dyed blue?" he asked without actually thinking any thoughts through.

Alex drew back abruptly at that, "No."

"I... Alex, I'm sorry, I wasn't..."

"No. It's...never mind. If you're hungry I'll leave the food."

"Alex? Is something the matter?"

He shook his head, "No. 'Night."

Hank rubbed a hand over his face. "It... it's Christmas Eve, isn't it?"

Alex nodded, "Yeah."

"Well, is there anything anyone's doing?" he asked finally.

"Tonight? Not that I know."

"Well, I... Thank you for dinner."

He nodded very slightly, "Yeah." Alex turned and slipped out.

Hank rubbed a hand over his face, and turned to the food, eating it before setting aside the old cells and looking over his notes on an image inducer instead.

X-X-X

Erik slipped into the mansion hours later, long after it had gone dark and most people were already asleep.

Charles was already in bed, sitting up reading. He closed his book and set it on the side table, his mind seeking out the new arrival, _Erik?_

_Hello, Charles,_ he sent over, already heading for the room and slipping inside it, closing the door softly behind him.

_In the bedchamber._ He looked toward the joining door, "Not that I mind, but what are you doing here?"

"It's Christmas Eve," he replied, closing the bedchamber door behind him as well. "For another forty-five minutes if I'm correct. I wanted to be here."

Charles offered him a gentle smile, "Thank you for coming."

Erik nodded and slid onto the bed, putting his chin on Charles' shoulder. "I'd planned to be here in the morning. I thought I might as well wake up here."

The telepath turned his head enough to kiss Erik's cheek, "I do believe this is beginning to resemble one of the best Christmases I can recall."

"I've only just walked through the door," he said. "What are you reading?"

"Raven came by briefly earlier," he said by way of explanation. "Oh, T.H. White's _The Once and Future King_. I've only just started it."

"Any good?" Erik asked, glancing at his from his perch on Charles' shoulder. "And did she now?"

He nodded, "It rather is. And she did. She didn't stay long, but she did come by."

Erik pressed a kiss to his neck. "I'm glad. For you, and for her as well."

Charles tilted his head, exposing his neck a bit more, "Thank you. How have you been?"

"Good enough," Erik replied, paying slightly more attention to his neck. "Things continuing as they have been for a while."

"I see there's been an upswing in heists in the tri-state area in the last few months," Charles remarked idly, humming at the feel of Erik's lips on the sensitive skin at his throat.

Erik let out a breath, and pressed another kiss to the skin. "Has there?" he said mildly.

"Mhm. And an anti- mutant coalition seems to have disbanded if some sources are to be believed. Something about missing some integral members abruptly."

"Charles," Erik made a soft sound of protest

"It's not a reprimand, Erik. I don't care for your methods, but I have to admit they're effective."

The taller sighed again anyway. "I still don't want to talk about it... not tonight."

Charles finally nodded, "Very well. I shouldn't have brought it up, anyhow."

Erik shifted again, to draw Charles closer, still kissing his throat. "Some other time."

The telepath reached up to trace a finger over the shell of Erik's ear, "Mm. Some other time."

Erik grinned slightly against the other's throat. "How early are you getting up tomorrow?"

"Whenever the students finally wake. The gifts are already under the tree and Christmas is a day to take off from the day-to-day work." He shuddered very slightly at the tickle of Erik's breath, his fingers tracing down the German's jaw-line and throat, but the angle was awkward enough that he couldn't draw them further and so traced back up.

Swallowing, Erik shuddered slightly, before turning and shifting so that he was sitting across Charles' lap. Charles blinked at the inversion of their normal position, but he didn't seem to mind much, "Hello there."

"Hello," Erik hummed, leaning forward to finally kiss the other.

Charles' hand came up to curl a lock of Erik's hair around his finger, even as his other arm moved around the other man's waist. The support of the oaken headboard behind his back helped a great deal.

Erik tilted his head into the kiss, pressing just a bit closer. The young professor's hand trailed around the other's waist before settling on skirting up his spine. The German shifted again, hands coming up to cup Charles' face. Charles leaned into the kiss a bit more. His hand moved from Erik's hair to the back of his neck, drawing him down a bit further.

Erik pulled back enough to rest his forehead against Charles', stroking his cheekbones.

The telepath smiled softly, "I love you."

Erik smiled softly, leaning back into the kiss, slowing it down to a gentle kiss. "I know."

Charles leaned back a bit more against the headboard, drawing Erik with him. Grinning, Erik followed, not breaking the kiss at all. Running his hand down Erik's side, Charles smiled softly into the kiss.

Finally, Erik glanced up and toward the clock, nuzzling his nose against Charles'. "Merry Christmas, Charles," he said softly.

"Merry Christmas, Erik." He smiled, his eyes lighting, "Thank you."

"For?" Erik hummed.

"Coming. Spending it with me. Being here."

For a moment Erik paused before surging back into the kiss.

Charles' mental laughter rang clearly in both their minds as his hand moved up to rest on Erik's cheek, the other one gripping his upper arm.

Erik grinned into the kiss, drawing Charles down and closer. The telepath's breath hitched slightly at that, but he followed the German's guidance, pressing up against him as best he was able. Smoothing a hand over Charles' hair, Erik gathered him in his arms. One of Charles' hands went back to help him balance just a bit at that.

Erik pulled him down so they were laying on the bed, facing each other. "I do love you Charles."

"And I love you, Erik." He reached out, brushing a hand over the taller man's hair.

"Good."

"I..." He smiled softly, leaning in to kiss the other lightly, briefly again

"You?" Erik asked, running a hand along Charles' spine.

Charles arched at the touch slightly, "Hm?"

"Sorry, did I distract you from whatever you were saying?"

"You have that habit..."

"How complementary, Charles."

"How roguish, Erik," he retorted.

The taller just grinned at that, kissing the other again and moving his hand across the same path along his spine. "Should sleep... who knows when the kids are going to wake up..."

Charles arched against him again, "If that's going to happen you have got to stop that."

"But I enjoy it so much..."

The telepath shook his head slightly, "You're impossible..."

"I assure you, Charles, that I'm very possible.

"Alright then. Insufferable."

"You seem to suffer me well enough..."

"You know what I mean."

Erik kissed him again, tilting his chin back.

Charles pressed against him, smiling against the kiss, _This is hardly conducive to sleep._

_Well, I was going to suggest it after this kiss... it's not my fault you're so tempting._

The smaller man drew back from the kiss at that, batting at Erik's chest, "We need sleep.."

"We should," Erik agreed, kissing his temple. "I'll try to be good. Let me under the covers."

"I'm not the one laying on top of them and preventing you doing so," Charles pointed out.

"Invite me under the covers then," Erik teased, finally standing and pulling off his shoes and jacket, taking his belt and turtleneck off, before getting under the covers and curling himself around Charles.

The smaller man rested his head on Erik's shoulder, more than content to sleep in the other's arms.

"Try to sleep well, Charles," Erik murmured, kissing his hair.

"Mm. You as well, Erik." Erik nodded against his hair, already drifting off. Charles slipped into a mercifully dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>Meadowlark here! We wanted to thank our reviewers and those of you who have favorited and alerted as regards this story. Hope you enjoyed this latest chapter!<p> 


	11. To Hell With It

Alright, so quick reminder here: There are more pairings running around than just Erik and Charles. One of them makes themselves strongly known in this chapter, but don't worry, we have at least... 5 more that are going to show up at some point or another. Cheers all.

* * *

><p><em>Christmas Day, 1962<em>

Charles blinked himself awake the next morning, carefully shifting just enough to see the clock before returning to his original position with a muted groan. Admittedly it was after eight, but he had expected to sleep just a bit longer.

Erik shifted, hand coming up to pet the other's hair. "You could go back to sleep," he rumbled.

Charles blinked drowsily at that, "Did I wake you?"

"I was dozing," he replied.

"Alright. And going back to sleep is unlikely. I expect that after the other two are awake there will be a knock on the door regardless. Sean's apparently more enthusiastic this morning than I gave him credit for."

"Is he going to wake up the other two?"

"I think he has a higher value on his life than that."

"Smart boy," Erik said, kissing Charles' temple. "Should we get up then?"

"Probably should start in that direction. Someone needs to get a fire started in the grate, and I'd rather that someone be over the age of seventeen."

"Which is technically everyone except Sean... Actually, let's not let Alex do that, hm?"

"Alright, someone over the age of twenty then. And Henry's got that thick fur coat, so it is going to have to be one of us."

"Right," Erik said and let out a sound of protest. "Well, if we are, we should, hm?"

"Mhm." Charles shifted away from the other and reached up to grab one of the bedposts and lever himself up, letting out a soft noise as the colder air hit his body.

Erik watched him, itching to help him, but managing to restrain himself.

Once he was vertical he picked up his robe from where it was draped over the arm of his chair, pulling it on and belting it around his waist. He hesitated for a moment before working to get from the bed to his chair as he did each morning.

"I know you can do it yourself," Erik said, voice slightly strained. "But can I help?"

Charles sighed very softly before nodding, "Yes, Erik."

Erik slipped out of the bed, coming around to the other side and gently lifting Charles up.

The telepath wrapped his arms around Erik's neck for balance as the other moved him from the bed to the chair. "Thank you."

"Of course," Erik murmured, setting him down just as carefully.

Charles smoothed his dressing gown over his lap, offering the other a faint smile.

Erik leaned down to kiss him again, before finally pulling back. "We should go if we're going to."

He nodded in response, turning the chair to head out, "Probably, yes."

Swallowing, Erik ran a hand through his already messy hair before following the other.

Sean was curled up on the couch under a blanket when they reached the front parlor, his green eyes sparkling with unconcealed delight though he managed to keep his tone subdued, "I wasn't sure where the matches were. The fire's set, just needs to be lit."

Erik glanced between him and Charles, smiling faintly.

Charles' brow arched, but he smiled a bit at that, "Top left drawer in the kitchen, Sean."

The teen unfolded from the couch hurrying to get those.

"Are you sure you want him to know where the matches are later?" Erik asked softly as Hank emerged, though he looked like he hadn't slept the night before.

"I'll move them." The professor glanced toward Hank, "Henry?"

"Hm? Oh, good morning you two," Hank said, running a hand through his headfur. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas. Did you sleep?"

The larger mutant shifted slightly. "Not really," he admitted.

"Oh, Hank..." Charles sighed softly.

"It's nothing, Professor," he replied quickly, Erik sitting down in an armchair and staying out of the conversation.

The telepath decided to leave that be, nodding slightly as Sean came back into the room with the book of matches he'd found.

Sean moved over to the fireplace, carefully lighting the fire and waiting until the logs caught before putting the screen in place and returning to where he'd been curled up on the couch.

Hank sat down on the other end of the couch, glancing around. "Well, presents or should I start breakfast first? Once, of course, our last member is out of bed."

"Coffee first. Gifts second. Food third." Alex spoke from the doorway, still looking bleary-eyed.

Hank glanced back at him and rose. "I'll get that started," he murmured, sliding toward the kitchen.

Alex watched him go, blinking before sitting down cross-legged in front of the couch.

Erik glanced around the room, content to sit silently in the armchair until the coffee appeared.

Charles moved his chair over next to Erik's armchair.

Erik leaned a hand out, to rest it on Charles' arm, giving the other two an almost daring look.

Alex watched them for a moment, but looked away, his gaze going to the fire. Sean's brows rose but he turned his attention to the hem of the blanket, fiddling with a loose thread.

Hank finally returned, coffee on a tray and cups for everyone, setting it on the table where everyone could reach.

Charles reached over, picking up a mug and handing it to Erik before grabbing one for himself.

Hank took one for himself, handing one to Alex almost automatically, before considering where to sit.

Sean picked up the last one as Alex took the cup from Hank, blinking at him again. Alex took a drink of his coffee, glancing at the others, "Well, Merry Christmas."

Hank mumbled the phrase back, and Erik just nodded, sipping his coffee.

Charles offered Alex a faint smile at that as Sean uncurled again. The redhead glanced around, "I can dole out the gifts?"

Alex shrugged, "Sure."

Erik nodded and Hank shifted slightly, finally settling down on the couch a little behind where Alex was sitting.

Sean slipped off the couch, sorting the gifts before handing them out. He tilted his head on one side as he read the clearly written label on one before handing it to Erik.

Erik blinked at him, and looked over to Charles, arching a brow slightly.

Charles smiled softly at that, gently picking up the gift Raven had dropped off the night before that had remained unopened. He carefully opened it to reveal an elegant pen with a marble stand and a letter opener that it looked like…a soft, only slightly sad, smile graced his features, he'd looked at this particular set in Oxford a handful of months before. Before all of this had started.

Erik watched him, before glancing down at his own gift, finally setting out opening it.

Hank glanced over his presents, pausing at the two—two?—that looked like they were in Alex's handwriting.

Alex warily eyed one of the gifts he'd given Hank. After the conversation the night before he wondered if it was a good idea. But he turned his attention to his own gifts.

Opening the smaller, less hefty gift first, Hank paused for a long moment, looking down at Alex. "... A red yarn ball?"

The blond managed a bit of a sheepish look at that, "It seemed like a good idea at the time?" Sean bit back a laugh that turned to a yelp as Alex hit him.

Hank blinked at that exchange, and gave Alex an unreadable look before a small smile, shrugging. "Well, I suppose the lab needed more color. Though, I refuse to play with it," he said, managing to joke. Swallowing, he turned back to the other presents, opening the ones from the others before attempting Alex's second.

Alex dropped his gaze at that comment. He'd been fighting with himself for most of the night about whether or not to come down and remove that gift. He sortta wished he had now. He carefully opened the gifts from the Professor and Sean before gingerly opening the one from Hank. He traced his fingers around the edge of the new adapter, "You weren't kidding about more streamlined. Thanks."

Hank offered him a smile, not mentioning he had actually been experimenting with rubber, to disastrous results, with Erik in the room. "Perhaps now you'll have to worry about it less," he murmured, finally turning to the hefty package. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know.

Alex managed another faint smile at that.

Glancing around at the others, Hank finally opened the second gift, blinking. "This is a rare..." he started, flipping the book open, "...a First Edition of a rare book."

Alex kept his gaze focused on the adapter, not looking up or saying anything this time.

Charles looked up from where he was seated, glancing between his two students, but not speaking for the moment.

Looking between the yarn ball and the book, Hank reached a hand out, gently setting it on Alex's shoulder. "Thank you, Alex," he said, and withdrew the hand.

Alex stiffened slightly at the touch, but murmured, "You're welcome, Hank."

Hank looked around the room again. "I'll go start breakfast," he murmured, rising again and going to the kitchen. Breakfast, and then sleep. He really needed sleep to deal with anything else.

Alex hesitated for a long moment before getting up and following him.

Erik's gaze followed them, and he glanced over at Charles.

Charles watched them go, listening for a moment to make sure they were both mostly alright before turning to Erik and offering him a gentle smile.

Erik nodded, putting them out of his mind if Charles wasn't concerned.

X-X-X

Hank puttered around the kitchen, pausing to rub his eyes.

Alex paused in the kitchen doorway, "You want a hand?"

"If you like, I wouldn't mind," Hank replied.

He came the rest of the way in, "Sorry about the yarn."

Hank glanced back at him and shrugged. "It... I suppose it's an amusing idea. Perhaps it would be more so another day."

"Yeah, like a month ago. Still. I should have come down and found it last night."

"Well, did you get it a month ago? It's fine, really."

Alex opened his mouth to protest again, but closed it again, deciding that he'd said his piece.

Hank finally glanced back at him. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. What can I do to help?" It was his way of continuing to apologize without voicing it.

Hank pointed. "Eggs might be nice."

"Scrambled?" Alex asked, already moving to get a start on them.

"Please," Hank said, glancing at him again.

He nodded, getting to work on that without looking up again.

Hank finished what he was working on, stepping back and looking over again. "Alex..."

Alex poured the beaten eggs into the frying pan, finally glancing at him, "Yeah?"

Hank looked at the eggs, considering how close they were to being done and put a hand up to his eyes again before murmuring, "Oh, to hell with it," and taking a quick step forward, and another to push Alex against the wall, kissing him in the same breath.

Alex's eyes widened and he sucked in a sharp breath. His first instinct was to push the other away, but the second his hands touched the other man's shirt he found his fingers coiling around it. He leaned up into the kiss for a brief moment before drawing back, "I..."

Hank blinked, eyes slowly widening in horror. "Oh, I, that, I mean, terribly sorry, I'll just..."

He swallowed, his hands still holding on to Hank's shirt. "Hank?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up." He leaned up, kissing the other again, hesitantly.

The taller returned the soft kiss for a moment before drawing back again slightly to look Alex over, a quick dart of his eyes, before surging back into the kiss, arms wrapping around the other. The blond finally let go of the other's shirtfront to let his arms move around his neck, his fingers tangling in Hank's fur.

Hank's hands slid down to his waist, before finally pulling back again for a breath. "I... well then."

Alex swallowed hard, "W-we should finish breakfast..."

"Yes, breakfast... Alex, we..."

"We?" He wasn't sure what he wanted to hear as an end to that particular sentence.

"Are we...?" Hank started and couldn't come up with the words to finish.

"I-I don't know. Yes? Maybe?"

The blue mutant took a breath. "Alright. Well, we should deal with breakfast and then... whatever else."

Alex nodded slightly, slipping past him to check on the eggs.

Rubbing a hand over his eyes again, Hank went to follow him in finishing up the meal.

X-X-X

Erik finally turned to his own gift when Hank and Alex went to make breakfast, opening it slowly, paying more attention to Charles than the package.

Charles offered him a bit of a smile as he turned his attention to unwrapping his gift from Erik.

Fiddling with the wrapping paper, Erik finally got the first layer off, considering the box in question.

Peeling back the paper, Charles ran his fingers around the edge of the box before opening it, his brow arching at the watch inside.

"I'm sure you already have more than enough nice things," Erik said, watching his expression. "But I wanted to get you something as well."

"It's very nice. I've been thinking I could stand a new watch." He ran his finger around the face of the watch, offering Erik a smile, "thank you."

Erik returned the smile, managing not to mention that he had very specifically chosen a watch with a leather strap to minimize the amount of metal he was all but asking Charles to wear with giving him the gift. He'd flipped the top of the box in his lap open, finally looking down. He drew the housecoat out slowly, blinking down at the matching pair of pajamas and... slippers.

Charles watched Erik's expression as his gift was opened, offering him a smile that bordered on a smirk, "You mentioned you didn't have any."

"I'm not sure that was a request for some..." Erik replied, and looked the gifts over before looking back at Charles. "But thank you. I'm sure it'll be a new experience."

"You can leave them here." His gaze moved over to the door as Sean beat a retreat.

Erik arched a brow after the retreating form. "Well, that didn't take long," and he looked back at Charles. "What, are you clearing out a drawer for me?"

He half-shrugged, "I certainly could."

The taller paused for a moment and nodded. "It may make things simpler."

"Then there's certainly room for me to clear out a drawer for you."

"Alright," Erik said, leaning over and kissing his temple.

Charles leaned into the touch, turning enough to rest his hand on the other's cheek.

Erik smiled and pulled back. "Wouldn't want to worry the baby birds any further," he murmured.

The telepath smiled a bit at that, opening his mind to sense the others, his brows rising, "They seem to be doing a good enough job on their own."

"Do I even want to know?"

"I'd have to actually reach their minds for it, and I'd rather leave it to them."

Erik's brow rose again and he shrugged, shifting through his sudden sleeping ensemble. Charles carefully set the new watch and then put it on.

"You like it then?" Erik asked quietly.

"I do. It's very nice. Thank you, Erik."

The taller nodded and sighed, leaning back in the chair slightly. "I should get back."

"I..." He sighed, "Yes, you should."

Erik ran a hand along his hair and sighed softly again. "Thank you for having me. And for the... sleepwear.

Charles smiled softly, "You're always welcome here, Erik. You know that."

Erik leaned over to kiss his temple again before standing.

The telepath reached out, catching Erik's hand and squeezed it briefly, "Thank you for coming, my friend."

"Of course. I'll see you soon, Charles."

He nodded slightly, offering another slight smile. Erik ran a hand over the top of Charles' head and slipped out, heading for the doors.

Sean watched from where he was seated on the stairs, "Merry Christmas."

Erik paused, glancing back at him and nodded. "Happy Holidays," he replied before opening the door and leaving.

Sean watched him go before going back and curling up on the couch again.

Hank entered a while later with a couple plates, handing one off to the professor, before sitting down quickly and all but shoveling food in. Alex came in with two more plates, handing one to Sean and settling on the floor, picking at his food. Charles looked from one to the other, a brow arching but he didn't say anything.

Hank finished quickly and rose. "Merry Christmas all," he said, heading back out.

"Merry Christmas," Alex murmured. The other two offering him similar wishes.

Hank hesitated before heading for his bedchamber, intending entirely to pass out and try to give his brain enough sleep to figure out what the hell had just happened.

Alex excused himself a few minutes later and headed out to the garage to work on the cars some more and try to sort out what he was thinking.

* * *

><p>And now for your end notes. There was some confusion before about Charles calling Hank "Henry" which I figure might show up in this chapter again. In the comics, his name is Henry "Hank" McCoy, and the movie never seemed to specify if his fullreal name was Henry, but we're running with that assumption.

Also, at a little less than a month and ten chapters into this story, we're sitting with 127 reviews, on 103 people's favorite story lists, and on 202 story alerts. The response to this story has been somewhat overwhelming, thank you all so much!


	12. Fantastically Different

_December 26__th__, 1962_

"I'm starting to think our illustrious leader has a secret lover," Azazel said, the day after Christmas, leaning over the back of the couch.

Mystique jumped slightly, tilting her head back to look up at him, "Oh?"

"Well, he disappears with no one the wiser, and is gone overnight, as well as missing out on Christmas Eve. It's all rather loverly material."

"And you'd know I suppose? Besides, it's not as though Christmas Eve was much to write home about around here. _I_ skipped out on it."

"Sure," he said. "But did you see that gorgeous watch he bought recently? Which has never been seen on him and that disappeared off his desk about Christmas Eve? I don't know, he's going somewhere after all."

"So what if he does have a lover? How is that our concern?"

Azazel shrugged. "Aren't women supposed to like to gossip?"

"They're also supposed to paint their nails, do their make-up and go shopping on a regular basis."

The red mutant grinned. "After all, you don't have to put on make-up. I'm just saying I'd like to know what he's doing."

"Why? It's not affected us or our ability to do what needs to be done," She turned her attention back to one of the books Charles had sent her as a Christmas present.

"Where'd you pick up the book? Besides, just because it hasn't yet doesn't mean it won't."

"From a bookstore," she replied. "I don't see that it's our business to go prying into his life. He doesn't pry into ours, though sometimes I think that's a fault more than anything."

"We're his minions, he's our leader, who must be an example to us poor peons."

She gave him an extremely unimpressed look and turned back to the book again.

"You're rather uninspired today," he drawled.

"I'm rather disinclined to deal with you."

"But we are warriors in arms, after all."

"Do you see us fighting right now? I don't. Get lost."

"But if we don't have trust here, how will we on a battlefield?"

"What has trust got to do with this?"

"Well," he drawled. "Maybe I'm bored of Riptide's non-conversation and Emma's brooding. And god only knows where Angel gets herself to. I figure she's gone back to stripping."

"She would." Mystique set the book aside, looking up at him again, "So I'm suddenly elected to entertain you."

"Yup," he said, nodding once.

"Joy."

"Surely, it can't be that bad," he said. "Just say something witty."

"I don't do witty."

"So I've noticed."

"What do you want, Azazel?"

"I already told you," he said, suddenly transporting from the back of the couch to the cushion next to her. "Entertainment."

She startled very slightly at that, "Can't you entertain yourself?"

"But I've been doing that so much lately," he protested. "Surely you can figure out something."

"I've no idea how to go about it."

He grinned, spreading out over the couch. "It can't be that hard. Tell me what you're reading."

"_The Invisible Man_, by H.G. Wells."

Azazel raised a brow. "That's quite the book for a young girl, hm? Seems a bit like a mutant if you ask me."

"I'm not that young. And to some extent, yes. Though his appearance is due to experimentation not genetics."

"Well, surely there are mutant experiments too. After all, Shaw was a fan of doing such things."

She frowned, "Yes, and we all saw how well that turned out for him."

He grinned. "He just pushed that one too far is all. I'm not saying it's a good plan, but do you really think people aren't going to be tempted to cut us open?"

"I have no doubt they will be, but Shaw was a twisted son of a bitch who experimented on his own kind."

"Well, you didn't see me crying when a coin was shoved through his head. Though, I have to give points to our illustrious leader. He has a brutal and deeply effective style."

"He does indeed."

"That's something I've rather been curious about, actually," Azazel said, turning on the couch to look at her more clearly. "You left your what, brother? To follow Erik. You're like this faithful dog, following and protecting him, and you don't bat an eyelash when I mention he has a secret lover."

"I seem to recall saying that Erik with a lover is unlikely, but if he does it isn't our business."

"What I'm saying is that you seem remarkably unjealous of the possibility."

"I'm not in love with him, if that's what you mean. Certainly I've thought of him that way once, but he's rather got a magnetic personality."

"I suppose he could be called that," Azazel said. "So, you once felt all fluttery over him and now just... don't?"

"He was the first person to show me that this form could be equally, if not more, beautiful than this one," she shifted to the blond figure that she had used as a mask for years.

Azazel raised a brow at that, looking the form over. "Well, that's quite a change. I suppose he's done some good then."

She returned to her natural state, "You sound surprised."

"A little. You've been running around in that form so much it seemed natural."

"I meant about him doing some good."

"Well, he doesn't seem to type to be spreading rainbows and goodness around in his wake, or saving puppies."

"He isn't. He's blunt, but sometimes it's what's needed."

"I suppose so. So, you're into blunt then are you?"

"What I am 'into' is none of your business, Azazel."

"Really?" he all but purred.

"Really. Piss off."

"Why are you so cold?"

"Not really your business."

He rolled his eyes and rose finally. "Yeah, yeah. You've been enlightening dearie."

"Not as though I know much about you either."

He leaned forward, and tilted his head. "Well, my life is somewhat shrouded in the same amount of smoke my transporting is."

"That's less informative than I am."

He grinned again and flicked a finger along her cheek. "Yes, but I was the one asking."

She startled back at the touch, "Well, consider this me asking."

"I came from Russia. With your rich brother, I wonder if you ever knew what it was like to be hated for your skin, to go hungry on the streets. I was picked up young and trained. Shaw had a disagreement with my master and I followed him. I'm a loyal hound until a bigger dog comes along." He flicked her cheek again lightly and leaned back.

She drew back from his touch again, "I wasn't born an Xavier. My blood parents tried to kill me when I first changed. My 'rich brother' as you call him was the only thing that kept it from happening at the Xavier's...and then the Marko's again."

"Then you have some idea, little one."

"Some, yes."

He nodded. "Well, at least you had someone to watch out for you. Even if he is a pasty, idealistic and moronic intellectual."

She looked up, her golden eyes narrowing and her voice turning cold, "Charles Francis Xavier has experienced more in his life and felt more because of that mind of his than you can imagine, Azazel. He's earned a bit of optimism and idealism."

The red mutant arched a brow and leaned back at that. "Well. When you put it that way."

Raven rose to her feet, picking up her book. "If that's all?"

"I suppose so," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

She looked him over, "What?"

He shrugged and disappeared abruptly, apparently entertained enough for the time being.

The shapeshifter growled under her breath before going and locking herself in her room.

_December 28__th__, 1962_

Hank was fiddling with a small device that looked like it could fit on someone's belt, or maybe work as a watch even. Several different blueprints were spread around.

There was a soft tap on the door and Alex entered quietly, setting a plate of food down, and a pack of Twinkies next to it, "You missed dinner again."

"I did? Oh I... did. Sorry." His eyes drifted over to the Twinkies.

"Don't be." He hesitated for a long moment, "You alright?"

Hank slowly slid the Twinkies over toward him, finally looking up at Alex. "I... yes. I got caught up with work I suppose."

"You sure? I haven't seen you in three days, I don't think. Not since..."

"Since..." Hank looked down again. "Yes, well... I..." He stammered over the words, unsure what to actually say.

Alex looked away, "I... Why did you do that?"

Hank swallowed, fiddling with the package. "I... suppose I'm not entirely sure. It seemed like an idea at the time but..."

"It's...I didn't mind it."

"You... didn't?"

"...No."

Hank shifted slightly, finally turning away completely from all his blueprints. "Alex, I really have no idea what I'm doing here..."

"You think I do?"

"No," Hank said finally. "I really don't suppose you do. But you-you at least," Hank paused and swallowed. "I'm sorry, I'm being self-pitying again."

"I what?" Alex sighed.

Hank bit his lip and shrugged. "It's just, you could probably have so many people and then, I don't really know what you would see in me."

The younger man gaped at him for a long moment before moving over, "Hank, you're...I don't want anyone else."

"You... but," Hank protested and stopped himself. "You don't?"

He shook his head, "No. I don't."

"Several months ago, you couldn't seem to do anything but call me bozo, remember?"

Alex almost flinched at that, "Yeah, I remember."

Hank shifted again, and reached forward slightly, putting a hesitant hand on Alex's arm. Havok paused, reaching over with his other hand to place it on top of Hank's. The blue mutant paused again, before drawing Alex a bit closer. "I really don't know what I'm doing."

"Well...that makes two of us. But, I-I want to try and figure that out."

Hank leaned forward, barely stopping before he kissed Alex again. "Alright."

Alex swallowed, "So we're going to actually try this?"

"If you like, I would," Hank managed finally.

"I would like," Alex hesitated for a moment before bringing a hand up to run along Hank's cheekbone, smoothing the fur down.

Taking a breath, Hank leaned forward, kissing the other very gently as if he had no idea what he was doing.

The blond hesitantly returned the kiss, his hand continuing to stroke Hank's cheekbone. He drew away after a moment, "I..."

Hank's chin tilted slightly. "Yeah?"

He shook his head, "Not sure," and leaned in to kiss his blue-furred teammate again.

Hank hesitated before wrapping his larger hands around Alex's waist. Alex's arms moved to circle the other's neck as he carefully pressed into the kiss. Finally, Hank drew back slightly. "This is different."

"What?"

"This," he said, running his hands up slightly and back down to rest on Alex's waist. "It's different."

Alex nodded, one hand moving to comb through Hank's headfur, "Good different? Bad different?"

"Fantastically different," he replied.

He nodded, grinning very slightly, "Good." Alex glanced around, "I should let you get back to whatever it is you were doing, shouldn't I?"

Hank shrugged. "Should probably let me eat dinner, but honestly I think my work can rest for a while."

"What are you working on?"

Hank held it up, though he pulled the plate toward him with his other hand. "It's a... portable image inducer, if it works out as well as it should."

"Wow. Well, if anyone can make it work it's you."

"Well," Hank would have been blushing if he could. "I haven't made it work yet."

"Still. You'll get it."

"You're rather reassuring," Hank murmured, offering him a smile. "I'm not sure I've ever gotten that much confidence off someone."

He blinked, "Really?"

"Not as trusting confidence?" Hank shrugged. "Maybe one professor, but life has no generally been full of support."

"But, you're brilliant. People say that if they set their mind to something they'll accomplish it, but you actually can."

Hank considered him and put a hand around the back of Alex's neck, kissing him again quickly. Alex startled a bit at that, but returned the kiss before drawing back.

"Sorry," Hank mumbled.

"Don't be. Just surprised me."

"Alright," Hank said softly.

"I should let you eat..."

"You could stay, if you like," Hank shrugged. "Though you might keep distracting me."

Havok grinned and settled on a stool nearby.

_December 28__th__, 1962_

Alex came in from a trip he'd taken into town, setting the mail from the post office down on the entry table, frowning at the package addressed to him. He made his way into the kitchen, perching on a chair and considering the box before finally opening it. It didn't have a return address. Inside there was a small shaving set. Simple enough, and nice enough but really a generic gift given to someone you don't know much about. He picked up the card accompanying it and reading it over before dropping it back in the box and pushing the entire thing away from himself, staring at it for a long moment.

Hank entered the kitchen to make coffee, glancing over at the other mutant and frowning slightly. He peered at the package before back to Alex. "Would you like some coffee?"

He glanced up, "Huh? Oh. Yeah, coffee'd be great."

"Everything alright?" Hank asked mildly, getting the coffee started.

"Yeah, sure. Just dandy."

"Which implies something else. Do you want to talk about it at all?"

He motioned to the box, "The prison forwarded this on. It's from my brother."

"It, you... oh." Hank fiddled with the coffee machine. "Do you not get along with your brother?"

"I don't know. I've only met him a few times that I can remember. It's my blood brother. He's the one they could support and he's the older of us. So he's the one they kept."

"Only... they..." Hank frowned processing that. "Wait, _what?_"

"It happens, Hank. Don't sound so shocked. A family ends up with an unexpected child, there are other people who want children, the first family can't support another kid...so they put them up for adoption. The adoption just usually holds."

Hank stuttered over several words for a minute. "But, that... your parents just gave you up?"

Alex looked down, his gaze focusing on the wood grain of the table, "They didn't want to." He spoke as though he was still trying to convince himself of something he'd heard.

The larger took a breath and sat down beside him. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged, "It happened. No changing that."

"No, but... Have you ever tried contacting your parents?"

"Yeah. The records are locked as far as I can tell. Chris found me mostly by chance, I guess."

Hank slowly nodded, trying to swallow down any further rants. "What are you planning to do?"

"I don't know. He obviously doesn't actually know where I am, so I don't know if it matters."

Again, Hank nodded. "Well, he appears to be trying if nothing else."

"Yeah, guess so," Alex sighed, "I think I'm gonna go for a run or something. Maybe go work in the garage."

"... Would you like help or company with any of that, or is this a time when you need to sort things out by yourself?"

He shrugged, "Not much to sort out. He didn't bother to find out I wasn't still in prison, and the card's run-of-the mill with his name in it."

"I suppose not..."

"So you can come if you want. I won't be good company."

"That's alright," Hank said, rising and fishing around the kitchen for a pair of thermoses to put the finally finished coffee in.

Alex managed a weak smile as he got up, eyeing the package again.

"Could always see about sending it back," Hank said mildly. Possibly with a scathing note or two.

"There's no return address. I'll hold onto it for now."

Hank nodded, not mentioning that a ritual burning might also not go amiss.

Alex sighed again, glancing at him, "So, garage then?"

"I need to look at some of the engines, to see about working up the new plane, so yes."

The blond nodded slightly, "Kay, sounds good."

Hank handed him half the coffee, and led the way out.

* * *

><p>So, this is a bit of an interlude, though it does present one of the issues which Alex and Hank are going to be dealing with-namely Alex's past. We promise there will be more Erik and Charles in the next chapter, so hang on it'll be here.<p> 


	13. I Like it Better than the Opera

_New Year's Eve 1962_

Charles frowned, digging through the drawers of his desk again before triple-checking his bookshelves and rolling into the bedchamber to search that room again. Where had he put that book? It had to be around somewhere, he wasn't quite finished with it yet.

Erik entered, closing the door softly behind him, having decided to stop by for New Year's Eve. "Hello, Charles."

The telepath glanced up, "Oh, hello, Erik."

Erik leaned over, running a hand through his hair. "And what are you up to then?"

"Trying to find my book. I was hoping to finish it soon..."

"Which book?" Erik asked, keeping his expression innocent.

"_The Once and Future King_. That one I was reading a week ago." He looked up, "You haven't seen it have you?"

"Me?" Erik asked, expression still innocent. "If you can't find it, I could certainly get you another copy."

Charles' brow rose at that, "That didn't answer my question."

A small smirk started playing around Erik's expression. "Maybe not."

The telepath crossed his arms, appraising the other, "You didn't happen to pick it up?" Erik offered him a smile, and kissed the top of Charles' head. He sighed, "Erik, I wasn't finished with it!"

"I'm sorry, I thought you had been. I'll find another copy."

"Are you enjoying it?"

Erik nodded, sitting down on the couch. "Yes. It's rather interesting."

Charles wheeled over, pausing for a moment before shifting onto the couch slowly and carefully. "Good to hear. I'm sure I can find another copy, I'm not even sure what's in the library here."

"You don't know what's in your own library?" Erik asked, settling an arm around Charles' waist, content to sit beside him.

"Well, I haven't been here much over the last few years. My step-father used it as his private chambers and I was rather young when my father used it."

"I'm sure you could plan an expedition."

He nodded, "I may have to do that. It's a lovely old room, I just haven't had time to deal with the books recently."

"A tragedy. You have to take more time for yourself Charles, or you'll burn yourself out."

"You worry too much, Erik. I'm fine," he smiled softly, resting his head on the other's shoulder.

"I get to worry about you," Erik replied.

"You've enough to worry about without adding to it."

"Perhaps. But I want to worry about you."

"I'm alright though, Erik. I take care of myself. I promise."

"Good," Erik said.

Charles tilted his head back so he could look up at Erik, "How have you been?"

Glancing down at him, the German smiled. "Well enough. Busy, with different things. I believe Azazel has been postulating that I have a secret lover."

Charles' brow rose, "Well, he's not far off... You don't think he'll bother with it, do you?"

"Bother finding out who or make a fuss? No. I think he just likes making noise and bothering people. Besides you are my lover in all but one aspect. I certainly love you, remember?"

The telepath smiled softly, though it didn't fully reach his eyes, "I do remember. I love you too, so very much Erik."

Erik kissed the top of the other's head. "It's fine, Charles. To me at least."

He sighed, "I know. I know."

"Does it bother you?" Erik asked after a moment.

"I..." Charles looked away, "Perhaps a bit."

"I'm sorry," Erik said, rubbing a hand along his cheek. "And not just because it's my fault—no, I'm not about to go down the road of a guilt trip over that again, though I always will be somewhat. I'm just sorry."

He leaned into the touch, "I know. I'll be alright, Erik. It's just another thing."

"Well," Erik said slowly, moving his thumb in a circle along Charles' cheek. "Do you know you can't? Or if you ever will? After all, a while ago you implied you were getting some sensation back."

"I don't know I can't. I think someday. Sensation below the damaged vertebrae has been showing up from time to time outside of the tests. Like I said, it's just another thing."

The taller nodded, the arm that had been touching Charles' cheek dropping back down to hold him around his waist. "Then, someday. We'll work through things as they come."

He smiled softly up at Erik, "What did I do to deserve you?"

Erik sincerely tried to quash down on the first thoughts that sprang to mind. _The scar on your back, having your sister leave, and getting shot in the spine?_"Not sure," he actually said.

_The love and strength, the companionship, and the joy you bring me?_ he responded. Charles reached up, running a hand over Erik's cheek, "You're so much more than you give yourself credit for."

"I was really hoping you hadn't heard that," Erik murmured, moving to bury his face in Charles' shoulder.

The telepath's hand moved up to brush over Erik's hair gently, "I'm sorry, I'll try to remember to let your thoughts be yours."

"It's fine, usually," Erik replied. "Though, sometimes I wonder what I was thinking to fall in love with a telepath."

Charles smiled softly, turning his head enough to kiss Erik's temple, "Does one think when they fall in love?"

"I suppose it generally goes against form," Erik admitted with a grin. "Did you have any plans for tonight?"

"Not yet. I don't really make evening plans this year. Even for New Year's."

"Why not?"

"Because I have to take some time to myself so I don't overdo it." His lips curled into a slight smile, "Honestly though, I just find myself tired by the evening."

Erik hummed, kissing the other's neck gently. "Well, it is New Years. Do you have champagne somewhere?"

"I'm sure there's some in the wine cellar. Though I haven't been down there in a couple of years."

Erik nodded, and extracted himself. "If you point, I'm sure I can find the way. And something suitable. How are the baby birds doing tonight?"

"Sean's actually out with his parents for a few days. They finally came in-state. Alex has been closeted in the garage for a couple of days—I haven't asked or pried, if he wants to talk he can come. I think he's considering going out tonight. I don't know about Hank."

Erik nodded. "Well, to the wine cellar with me then. I'll return shortly."

"Alright." He focused, sending the directions into Erik's mind before thinking about it. Erik's brows shot up at that, but he finally nodded. Charles bit his lip slightly, "Sorry…"

Erik stepped over to lean down and kiss his temple. "Don't be. I'll be back," and strode out.

The telepath leaned his head back, closing his eyes and considering if the proposal that was waiting for him to speak it was suitable tonight.

Several minutes later, Erik returned with a pair of bottles and a pair of glasses. "I wasn't sure which you would prefer, or how much we could go through," he said, setting them both down.

Charles opened his eyes, smiling at that, "Well, I'm not picky when it comes from the cellar here and we'll have to see how much we actually get through, hm?"

Erik smiled and nodded, settling back down beside him, with the glasses and the bottles on a side table.

Charles leaned against him, thinking for another long moment, "Do you mind pouring me a glass, Erik?"

Erik nodded, proceeding to pour two of them and handing one to Charles, before putting that arm around his waist again. "Well, to a Happy New Year then. Welcome soon enough to 1963."

"To a Happy New Year. It's so filled with promise."

Erik glanced at him and smiled. "I hope so."

Charles returned the smile, "I'm sure of it."

Erik had to lean down and kiss that smile. The smaller man leaned up into the kiss, his free hand moving to rest on Erik's chest for balance. Erik smiled at that, returning the kiss almost lazily for a while before pulling back.

Charles shifted enough to rest his head on Erik's shoulder, "I love you."

"I'm glad," Erik replied, carding his fingers through Charles' hair.

The telepath leaned into that touch, sipping at his drink, "Erik?"

"Yes?" the other asked, tilting his head toward the shorter.

"I-I have something to ask you. It's something I know that you'll need time to consider and I ask that you take that time."

Erik blinked and nodded. "Alright..."

"I think it may be possible to link our minds. Fully, not just a stray thought here or there. I want to know if you'd be willing to do that?"

The German straightened his spine and didn't respond for a moment. "How linked? What…what exactly would that mean?" he asked, not because he was against the idea so much as processing it, his mind trying to gather information.

"A full link would mean that you would have full access to my mind and vice versa. I know it's a lot I'm asking."

"Can... alright. So it would mean we would know each other's thoughts. All the time?"

"When we're not blocking them, which I can teach you how to do. And I'm sure there's a range to it—there is to all telepathy."

"Do you have any indication of how much of a range?" Erik asked.

"I'm not certain. I know my own range, without an amplifier, is weak but present at a couple hundred miles. With both minds' strength, I don't know. Could be as few as my range or as great as double it, which I think would be nearly five hundred." He spoke softly, doing his best to keep his tone from sounding either clinical or pushy.

Erik nodded again, taking a breath. "Alright. I... if we're linked, would it be fairly constant? And if so, what would happen if one of us died?"

"The link would be broken for one. The other would know, and depending on the distance the other might feel it."

Erik shifted, holding Charles a bit closer. "Not that I'm planning on dying, but the things I've been doing lately... they're dangerous. And I don't want to do that to you again."

Charles leaned against him, glancing up at him, "I'm willing to take that risk, but it's up to you. You don't need to decide now."

Erik took a deep breath, rubbing small circles against Charles' hip. "Alright," he said softly. "I'll think about it."

The telepath offered him a slight smile before blinking. He lifted his head enough to look down at Erik's hand, "I..." He blinked again, a smile slowly spreading across his features. "Erik, I can feel that. It's intermittent and only slight, but I can feel that."

Erik blinked, and pressed slightly harder. "You can?"

Charles nodded, his eyes lighting, "Yes. I-I can."

Erik ran his hand from Charles' hip down his thigh slightly and back up, leaning over to kiss him.

The smaller man leaned up into the kiss, his hand moving to the back of Erik's head to draw him down a bit further. Erik allowed himself to be tilted down, shifting so he put his glass down, and wrapped both hands around Charles' waist. Charles set his glass down on his chair, his other hand moving to trace Erik's spine. Tilting further down into the kiss, Erik drew him a bit closer. The telepath made a soft sound at that, pressing closer as best he could. In reply, Erik tugged him as close as he could get. Moving his hand from the back of Erik's neck to his upper arm, he could feel the emotions spiraling around and intertwining.

"You really are amazing sometimes," Erik laughed softly, pulling back.

"Oh?" Charles blinked at him in confusion, managing not to protest the withdrawal.

Erik hummed, and kissed him again gently.

_You're rather amazing yourself, love._

_If you say so._

_I do._ He smiled against the kiss, finally drawing back as the clock chimed.

Erik tilted his head to look at the clock as well.

"It's almost the New Year."

"So it is," Erik murmured.

Charles leaned in to kiss him again briefly, "We've made it here."

"We have," Erik agreed, kissing him gently.

"I'm so very glad."

Erik nodded, holding him again. "Well, welcome to a New Year. May it go better than last."

"I'm certain it shall. Happy New Year, Erik."

Erik leaned down into another kiss.

_January 7__th__, 1963_

A week later, Hank checked through the main rooms of the mansion, since the other three were supposed to be out grocery shopping or some such. The car was gone, and it seemed empty enough. He retreated to his lab, putting on the music louder than normal. Something popular, peppy even, and a far cry from his usual classical and opera. Honestly, it sounded something more like one would find on a jukebox at a club, not in the lab of a serious scientist.

Alex woke up, glancing at the clock. It was a lot later than he usually got up. He made his way downstairs, checking for the others as he went. He finally reached the lab and stuck his head in, his brow rising at the sound of the music, "Well, I like it better than the operas."

Humming along to the music, Hank all but jumped out of the stool he was perching on, spectacles on the end of his nose. "I...What? Oh, Alex," he said and his eyes widened, his glasses nearly falling off a second time during his attempt to turn the music off.

Aelx's brow rose at that, "Nah, it's not a bad song. Just didn't peg you for the sort to listen to it."

"I, yes, well, I find variety can be the spice of life and... weren't you going with Sean and the Professor today?"

"Yeah, apparently they decided to let me sleep."

"Well, oh, I suppose you needed the sleep then," Hank started.

He shrugged, "I guess. It wasn't anything big anyhow."

"Suppose not. So, can I, erm, do anything for you?"

He shook his head, "No, was just seeing if anyone else was here and or up."

"Well, I'm rather both, so I suppose that works," Hank said, starting to come down from the panic of someone walking in, perching himself back on the stool.

"Guess so. How're you?"

"Once I've gotten my heart restarted, rather well today."

"Good to know. You listen to that much?" Alex asked.

"When others are not around... on occasion," Hank offered.

"Huh, interesting."

Hank shifted. "Oh? Interesting? Besides the ruin of my reputation as an intellectual you mean?"

"I doubt this would ruin that. At least not with anyone here."

"I suppose not," the larger mutant admitted.

"That doesn't mean I'm letting you forget it though."

"Oh, god," Hank rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Great. Just great. Is there any way I can convince you not to?"

Alex grinned, "Not sure yet."

"Any ideas?" Hank asked, smiling faintly.

"Hm...Not really. I'll have to think about that for a while."

Hank was still smiling, though he shook his head. "Well, do let me know as soon as you've figured it out. And how are you feeling anyway?"

"Still waking up, but fine. Why?"

"I haven't seen much of you the past week..."

"Oh...yeah. Just been doing my usual."

"A lot more of it, it seems."

Alex frowned, "You saying something?"

"Not... really?" Hank spread his hands out. "I'm just hoping you're alright and..."

"I will be. I at least have things to do this year." He studied Hank for a moment, "It's not you I'm avoiding, I'm still not thinking about Christopher."

"Oh, I-I mean, I wasn't worried that you were," he said, shifting. "Though it was perhaps less reassuring that it could have been. Have you come to any conclusions about your brother then?"

"I never have conclusions about him. I just have things to do to distract me this time."

"Perhaps... it would be better to try and sort some things out, rather than just being distracted?"

"How? It's not like it'd change anything."

"It might help you though," Hank continued and wished he would learn when to stop talking.

"Again. How?"

Hank shrugged. "Emotional stability? I don't know, I'm sorry. I'm prying again."

"The how was a how to do it." He sighed, looking away, "You've probably got a bit of a right to pry."

"I... wish I knew. Talking about it might help, but I'm not sure. And, I'll only pry as much as you let me. I don't want to push you."

He sighed again, finding a stool and perching on it, "I don't know..."

Hank turned fully to look at him. "About the talking or what to say?"

"What to say I guess."

"Well, you've had time to think about it surely. So, he's your older brother. Have you heard from him before?"

"Yeah, a few times. Got gifts the last three Christmases. Met him just before my powers showed up."

"How did that go?"

"It was the most awkward hour and a half of my life. He's...well, everything I'm not."

"How so?" Hank asked, almost bristling at that.

"Good student, even-tempered, brunette, the chosen son, no prison record, college-graduate now, and human."

"Oh Alex," Hank said softly, reaching forward and resting a hand on his knee. "You may not have honors or degrees or whatever he has, but you are good. You're funny, and smart in a different way, and you were given more problems than most people."

"Caused more too... I dunno, Hank. I'm not much to write home about."

"Well, if I was still in communication with my parents I might protest that. No, you're not perfect, but you're young. And tend to make things explode. That doesn't really reflect on who you are."

"I dunno. I'm...well, not exactly the man of someone's dreams."

"And he is? That's a rather boring dream it sounds like," Hank huffed, very carefully not mentioning Alex might well be the one of _his_ dreams.

"He's engaged, so... guess someone thought so." He froze realizing how that sounded, "I..."

"Hm?" Hank asked, tilting his head slightly.

He shrugged, "Nothing. I dunno. I never know after I hear from him."

Hank nodded. "Well, I can't really say that you're someone I dreamed about but... I like you. A lot. I'd consider writing home about you if that was viable. You even bring me Twinkies and food when I'm in overwork mode. It's very endearing."

Alex managed a faint smile at that, "Thanks."

Hank nodded again, hand still on Alex's knee. "Anytime. I'm apparently better at pep talks than I knew."

His hand moved to cover Hank's petting the fur there, "Apparently. Thanks again."

Hank hummed slightly as his fur was petted. "You're welcome."

He grinned, continuing to stroke the fur, reveling in the silky feel.

Hank shifted slightly at that. "You really do seem to like my fur..."

"Hm? Oh, it's soft."

Offering him a smile, Hank put his other hand on Alex's shoulder. "Well, I suppose that's a better reaction than I would get from many."

"Anyone who reacts differently is an idiot. You're still you."

"There aren't many who would say the same," he said softly. "But thank you."

Alex offered him another smile, "You're welcome."

Hank shifted a bit closer. "Can I...?"

He hesitated and then nodded, "Yeah."

It took Hank another moment, and he leaned forward, lightly kissing the other. Alex leaned into the kiss, his hand moving to comb through Hank's fur gently. After several more moments, the blue mutant purred softly. Alex smirked into the kiss, continuing the movement. Slowly, Hank moved a bit deeper into the kiss, still purring. Alex leaned up at that, his hand tracing up from Hank's hand up his arm, smoothing the fur back down again.

Smiling, Hank finally pulled back slightly.

Alex made a small noise at the withdrawal, but offered him a grin, "Yeah?"

Hank offered him a smile in reply. "I really do like you, you know?"

"I..." He grinned, "I know. I like you too, a lot."

"Good," Hank murmured. "I'm rather glad of that, all things considered."

Alex grinned, leaning his forehead against Hank's, "So am I."

* * *

><p>Your note from Victoriousscarf: Hank and Alex have attempted to stage an invasion of the story. They like showing up, and they're fairly cute. Not to mention a fascinating contrast to the mess going by the names of Erik and Charles. For example, Erik and Charles constantly are confessing love to each other, mostly to reassure and convince themselves they're okay. Alex meanwhile ((Very ala Wesley from the Princess Bride)) tells Hank he loves him by saying "It's youyou're you" and Hank expresses love with inventions and food.

Then your author realized today she was wearing a black turtle neck and casual business pants. And remembered why she was the Erik muse of the story.

Thank you guys as always for the amazing feedback we've been getting! We're really, truly honored.


	14. I Don't Trust the World

_Valentine's Day, 1963_

Erik strolled into the mansion, something that looked suspiciously like a bouquet of flowers in one arm.

Charles rolled into the foyer, pausing at the sight of the flowers, "Hello, Erik."

"Hello," he said.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

"The same to you. Here, I went traditional. Flowers for you," he said holding them out. "And even dinner reservations. I had Raven tell me the restaurant."

Charles took the flowers with a smile, "Dinner reservations even? Goodness. Let me get these in water, hm?"

Erik returned the smile. "There's no rush."

Sean came down the stairs, pausing when he saw them, but headed for the door.

"Sean? Where are you headed?"

"Spending the evening at the aquarium. 'Night."

Erik raised his brows, and smirked slightly.

Sean eyed him, but slipped out.

"Well, there goes one of them out the door. Is he in love with the fishes or what?"

Charles arched a brow, "He's probably going to end up somewhere else, but we'll see."

Erik smirked again, leaning against the wall and watching Charles as Hank came down the stairs, a rather large coat on. They arched their brows at each other.

Charles looked Hank over, "Good evening, Hank, where are you off to?"

"Camping," he replied. "Off toward the edge of the estate I think."

"Camping?"

"Yeah, camping." Alex said as he came down the stairs.

"In this weather?" Charles blinked.

He blond shrugged, "It's cold, but it's not supposed to snow tonight."

"Besides," Hank added, eying Erik. "A night out might be good. And I can't really even go _out_ out."

Charles finally nodded, "Very well, if it gets too cold do come back to the house."

"We will," Hank assured him.

"Alright, have a good night you two," he glanced from Hank to Alex and back.

Alex nodded, "You too, Professor."

Hank shifted slightly under the look and glanced over to Alex. "Shall we then?"

The blond nodded, "Yeah, let's get going."

Hank headed out, not quite bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I've been working on some all weather tents and sleeping bags recently, in case we ever have to go on an away mission. I was thinking of testing them out."

Alex grinned, following, "Well, this is certainly the temperature to test them in."

Charles shook his head as the door closed behind them.

"That's... different," Erik remarked.

"Oh?" He turned to wheel his chair to the kitchen to find something to put the flowers in.

"Well, at least Hank seems to be looking rather chipper, all things considered," Erik said, following him.

"He is. It's good for him—good for them both."

Erik paused and nodded. "Good."

"We'll see what comes of it." He glanced around the kitchen before motioning to one of the upper cupboards, "Do you mind getting a vase down for me?"

Erik nodded, reaching up to pull one down. He paused once it was down, wondering how long this peaceful domesticity could really last. "Here."

Charles offered him a gentle smile, "Thank you." He managed well enough to get the vase filled from the tap, carefully placing the flowers in the water, consciously not considering how little time they ever had with one another.

Watching him, Erik moved over. "Would you like to go out then? Or stay in?"

He tilted his head back to look up at the other man, "You said you'd made dinner reservations, didn't you?"

"If you want to use them, yes."

"I think we could certainly do that and then come back here?"

"Alright," Erik said with a smile. He'd been unsure if the other had actually wanted to go out and was somewhat glad he had.

"Shall we?"

Erik nodded. "I even have a car you can get into and everything."

"Perfect," Charles smiled up at him. "Then let's be off."

X-X-X

Charles unlocked the door, scanning the mansion, "It appears we have the place to ourselves still."

"We really have scared them off, haven't we?" Erik remarked, leaning against the wall.

"Well, Hank and Alex were going camping regardless. Sean though? Yes, probably." He pushed the door open, wheeling himself over the threshold.

Erik followed. He might have had too much wine. "Well, we can always see about testing out my Christmas gift if you don't mind."

Charles' lips curled upward at that, Erik mightn't have been the only one who had a glass or two too many, "I certainly don't mind in the least."

"Good," Erik all but purred.

The telepath offered him a crooked grin once the front door was closed, _Well then._

Erik leaned down and kissed him hard. _Alright, should get toward the bedroom at least._

Charles leaned up into the kiss, but drew back a bit, nodding.

Erik took a breath and gently pushed Charles' chair. "Did you enjoy dinner?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you for taking me out," he smiled up at the German.

Erik returned the smile. "I enjoyed it. It almost reminded me of going out in the evening while tramping around the United States."

The telepath's smile grew reminiscent, "Ah, yes, it did feel almost like that."

Erik pushed open the door to Charles' room using the metal doorknob. "I... I miss being around you all day, sleeping in the same hotel. Now I spend nights miles and miles away from you."

"Not every night, but I know what you mean. I miss it too, I miss _you_ too."

Erik leaned down, kissing him hard. "Charles..."

"Y-yes?" He pressed up into the kiss as best he could, his hand moving to tangle in Erik's hair.

The taller folded down to kneel in front of Charles, still kissing him. "Some days you make me want to give everything up and come running back here and never leave."

"The door is always open, Erik, you know that," Charles followed the motion, his other hand moving to rest on Erik's shoulder.

Erik made a sound in the back of his throat. "Not for a day, not for hours, I want to come back and never leave. But I can't."

"No, Erik, you won't. There's a difference." The words were out before he could catch them.

"You're right," Erik murmured. "I won't. But I've been fighting my entire life and I can't hand you my ideals on a silver platter."

"Your ideals are going to get you killed someday, Erik."

"Yours might..." Erik swallowed. "God, Charles, please don't ask me."

Charles sighed heavily, brushing a hand over Erik's hair again, "I'm sorry, Erik. I shouldn't have said anything. You know I won't ask that of you."

Erik let out a breath, letting his head rest against Charles' leg. "I'm sorry."

His fingers combed through the German's dark hair as he shook his head, "Don't be. You've no need to be."

Shifting his head into the touch. "Charles..."

"Hm?" His long fingers curled a lock of Erik's hair absently.

"I do love you. More than I should. God, if I wasn't sure I'd drunken enough wine tonight to question my judgment, I'd agree to the mental bond just so I'd have your mind with me all the time."

Charles leaned down to kiss Erik's head, "I love you too, beyond reason. And I wouldn't be able to form the link like this anyhow—besides, if you ever agree to it I want you fully in your right mind. I don't want it to be something you'll regret later."

"I know," Erik said. "In here I trust you implicitly. Even that you wouldn't ever do something to my mind that I didn't want."

"You say 'in here'."

"Don't think I didn't notice you trying to get the helmet off my head on that beach. What would you have done, Charles, if you had gotten into my mind then?"

Charles straightened, drawing back, "I...I don't know. I.." He drew a deep breath, "I couldn't let you kill them Erik. They were innocent men, husbands, brothers, fathers, sons. They all had families of one sort or another."

"I know," Erik said, running his hands along Charles' legs. "I know you couldn't. Maybe you were right. Maybe you weren't, because no matter what scars you have on your back, you haven't seen what humans can do in the mud of Europe. And I like, no I love the fact you're a shining beacon of hope to light the darkness. And I can trust that here. But God only knows about what we do out there."

"No. I haven't. Not beyond the memories you've permitted me." He sighed, "You've experienced the dream, Erik. Even if every one of those men knew what they were doing...I don't think I would have survived that many deaths." One hand moved to cover one of Erik's, "So it's not that you don't trust me," he shoved aside the bitterness and hurt that those words even coming from his own mouth caused him, "it's that you don't trust me to not act in the benefit of my ideals."

Erik took a breath and leaned up, kissing his temple, hands pushing against the other's thighs. "I don't trust the world, Charles."

"So you trust an illusion that we both cling to." God he was bitter tonight. He grimaced at the pressure he could feel on his legs. He glanced down to Erik's hands, before looking away with a sigh, "I'm sorry, Erik...I don't know what's gotten into me."

"I'm sorry," Erik said softly. "That I couldn't be someone who trusts you no matter what, who could fight for your cause and carry the banner proudly, who could be everything you ever deserved and who never hurt you. But I..."

"But you wouldn't be you then. And I love _you_, Erik. As painful as it is for both of us, I don't think I could ever stop."

Erik took a breath, running his hands along Charles' legs.

Charles drew a breath, managing a bit of a smile at the touch, "You know, it's strange to feel that much contact there..."

"You can feel it?" Erik asked softly, pausing before tracing the same pattern again.

He nodded, "Yes. There's more feeling there daily."

Erik considered him a long moment before running his hands up further. "And up here?"

Charles swallowed, nodding, "Yes, there too."

Erik took another breath running his hand up even further. "Charles..."

The telepath drew a breath before leaning down to kiss Erik, _Hm?_

_I love you. I can live my life without... but God I want you._

_And I you. God, Erik, so much._ He drew back fractionally, "Please."

It took Erik another second before he stood, picking Charles up with him. "You're sure?"

Charles looped his arms around Erik's neck, leaning up enough to kiss him again, "Yes, Erik."

"Good," Erik breathed into his ear, holding him closer.

X-X-X

Hank had put up the tent through trial and error, and spread a blanket and one of the modified sleeping bags out right outside the tent, glancing up at the clear sky.

Alex settled on the blanket, pulling his coat a little tighter, "I forget how cold it gets out here at night."

"Yes," Hank agreed, glancing over him. "Sleeping bag cover?" he asked, having unzipped it to use as a blanket.

He considered and then nodded, "Please."

Hank handed him the edge, before settling back on the blanket and taking the other half. "The sky is so clear tonight and we're so far away from any towns."

Alex lay back, leaning on his elbows, "It really is clear. It's quiet out here."

"Have you ever stargazed much?"

"Not in a long time. Maybe when I was little."

"The sky is a remarkable place," Hank said. "I'm still eagerly awaiting the days when space travel becomes real. In a more for the masses sort of sense of course."

Alex grinned, "You really think that'll happen?"

Hank turned to glance at him. "I can certainly dream, can't I?"

"It's always good to dream. What do you think we'd find out there?"

"No idea," Hank said. "Maybe that's why it's exciting. Though I suppose this world itself is throwing us enough surprises."

"Could be interesting, I don't know what I'd do out there. Too much time to think, I think." He lay back, lacing his fingers behind his head, "How 'bout you? What would you do if you could travel in space?"

"I'm not sure I would stay up there," he said. "But to be able to look at the earth and the stars, maybe even explore some of the places that I've been looking at since I was a child... now _that_ I don't expect to happen in my lifetime but..." He shrugged. "And I suppose we'll just have to keep you here then."

Alex curled a little closer to Hank, he'd claim it was for warmth if asked and it was partially, "I'm good with that. Who knows, maybe we'll get there sooner than you think."

"I would like that," Hank said, laughing softly and glancing down at Alex. "When... when I was a child, I used to take my grandfather's old telescope with me at night, and set it up on a hill right outside our house. I would be out there for hours, and late for school the next morning."

The blond grinned at that, "I can so see you doing that. I bet you know a lot about the stars then?"

Hank hummed and nodded. "It's been a while since I flexed that part of my brain."

"Well, bet it's still in there."

Hank glanced up. "Well, probably. Do you see that shape over there?" he asked, pointing up, and tracing it's shape before launching into an explanation of it, including the Greek back story for Orion. "And that's a rather obvious one... Over there is Draco."

Alex grinned, "How do you remember so much?"

"I have a very large brain, with plenty of storage space," Hank replied, grinning back at him.

Havok hesitated before leaning up and kissing Hank's jaw, "I like it."

Hank blinked and shifted down. "Oh?"

"Mhm. There's just something about being able to remember all that..."

A smile flickered around Hank's mouth. "Really? That's news to me..."

"I've said it before, I'll say it again, you can do anything you set that mind of yours to."

Lifting a hand, Hank ran it over Alex's hair. "Thank you."

"Well, it's true." He leaned his head into the touch, "It's kind of amazing. You've got tons of potential."

Hank continued stroking Alex's hair. "I just don't always know what to do with it."

"Well, you'll figure it out."

"I do hope so."

Alex propped himself up enough so he was eye to eye with the other, "You will."

"And when I make another mistake? Except for being unable to walk outside ever again, this one was rather harmless. But I was so sure..."

"You can't let it keep you from pursuing what you want to do. What makes you, well, you."

Hank let out a breath and glanced at the stars. "I'm still scared."

Alex placed a hand on Hank's cheek, "Well, the only one who can do anything about that is you. But I'm here if you need me."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. How are things going in the lab?"

"Well. I always seem to have five projects running at once. The braces for the Professor are finished, when he gets a bit more sensation in his legs we'll try them..."

"Bet he's glad about that. What else are you working on?"

"Well, a couple things. These all climate sleeping bags and tents, as well as the new jet, the image inducer..."

"Well, the sleeping bags seem warm enough. How are the other things going?"

"Progressing. The Jet looks like it could fly again in a few months. And I've been working on the blueprints for Cerebro... though I'm not entirely sure where we'd build it."

"Well, we'll figure that out. The Prof's stubborn and if he wants something to work he'll get it to work. After all, what would we need for it?"

"Cerebro or the jet?"

"Cerebro."

"Finding new mutant recruits. Or, mutants that need our help. Students for the school," Hank said. "Mutants to build the school..." he started listing things, before trailing off.

"How big does it need to be to work right?"

"Fairly large. It needs a round space that's about as big as the original. I can streamline it certainly..."

"So we'd need to find somewhere like that that the professor can get to..."

"I believe he was suggesting underground," Hank replied. "Which means carving out that space."

"Or seeing if there's some sort of cavern. Probably both."

"Yes," Hank agreed. "There's going to be a lot of metal involved I'm sorry to say."

Alex grimaced, "So we'll be working with him then?"

"I'm out of ideas for what else to do," Hank sighed. "He... I'm not sure what to think of him. I wasn't originally and I'm certainly not now."

"Well, I guess we'll see. He hasn't done anything against us yet, so...we might be okay."

"For now," Hank replied. "When we get the jet? When he turns into a Shaw-like creature? Watching the news, there have been deaths in strategic places. What happens when he comes out and actively starts wreaking destruction? Won't we try and stop him? Then what?"

Alex sighed, "We'll have to then. And I guess we'll do so. You've said it yourself, he won't hurt the professor willingly, but...us? We're pretty fair game probably."

"And that is hardly a reassuring thought."

"Well, we'll train, we'll find others and train. We know what we're up against for now and can train for that."

Hank nodded, slinging an arm around Alex. "Yes. And this was hardly the conversation to be having on Valentines' Day."

Alex leaned his head on Hank's shoulder, grinning, "Probably not. Getting out here was a good idea."

"I'm glad you like it," Hank said, drawing him a bit closer. "And it doesn't even seem that cold... though I suppose I have fur now. You're not too cold are you?"

"I was born in Hawaii and grew up in Arizona, but the blanket's helping and you're really warm too." The younger man curled a bit closer, "I'm good."

"Really? My, you do come from warm climates." He blinked down. "Well, I'm glad to be of service."

"Yeah, New York's a bit of a change, but it's a good one. Spent some time in Nebraska, too, so I'm used to the colder seasons somewhat anyhow."

"Well, I'm sure we'll build up your tolerance. I could maybe even see about adapting the tech in the outdoor gear into coats."

"Eh, I've made it to February just fine, I think I'm good this year."

"Good," Hank said. "But maybe for next year."

"Maybe so. Thanks, Hank."

"I try to be as useful as I can."

"Which is very useful. And really good looking too." He grinned a bit.

Hank blinked at him, not able to blush but posture curling up slightly. "If you say so."

He ran his fingers through the fur on Hank's brow, "I do say so."

Hank offered him a hesitant smile.

Alex paused for a moment before leaning up to kiss him. Rolling over to his side, Hank returned the kiss softly. Alex's fingers combed through Hank's fur as he leaned gently, hesitantly, into the kiss. Hank smiled softly, and shifted further into the kiss. Alex's other hand moved to rest on Hank's chest as he pressed against the other. Hank purred.

Havok grinned at that, drawing back slightly.

"Hm?" Hank enquired, tilting his head slightly.

He shook his head, "You." His finger moved to rest momentarily on Hank's throat, the purr vibrating beneath his touch; he leaned in and kissed him again, the hand trailing down to Hank's chest again.

"What about me?" Hank asked, smiling against the kiss.

"You purr. I like it. I like knowing you're happy."

"It does become rather obvious," Hank said and paused. "Are you happy?"

"Yes. Very," Alex offered him a reassuring smile.

"Oh, good."

Alex leaned up and kissed him lightly again. Still purring, Hank returned the kiss, drawing him a bit closer. Havok pressed up against him, feeling something pulling at the back of his mind, but ignoring it. Hank's hands slipped down around the other's waist. The blond's hand traced over the shell of Hank's ear, before running along the back of his neck in the thick fur there. Hank grinned against the kiss, tilting his head into it.

The push at the back of Alex's mind spread and he finally recognized it, pulling back abruptly and shoving away.

Hank blinked abruptly at that. "Alex...?"

He shook his head, "I-I can't. It's..." He pressed a hand to his chest, closing his eyes and concentrating. He put a hand on the ground and tried to dispel some of the energy that way, hoping it would work. He could feel some of it slipping through his hand, but nowhere near as fast as it could otherwise.

Hank blinked again, watching him. "Your powers are manifesting?"

Alex swallowed hard, nodding, "Y-yeah."

"Oh. Oh my stars and garters. Well, we'll have to figure out a way to deal with that."

He nodded again, drawing a steadying breath, feeling his power recede again, he managed a shaky grin, "Did you just say 'stars and garters'?"

"Oh my stars and garters, yes," Hank replied with a nervous smile.

Alex's grin grew more steady, "Th-that's so...you."

"I'm glad you approve..."

He looked around, "Well...Happy Valentine's Day, Hank."

Hank kissed the top of his head gently. "Happy Valentine's Day, Alex. Should we go and try and get some sleep? Or I could give a few more lectures on the constellations."

"I'm good with either. Constellations are interesting when you talk about them."

Hank grinned. "Well, I don't mind showing off."

Alex drew nearer again, settling down by Hank's side, "Stars then."

Hank rolled back on his back, and drew Alex just a little bit closer. "Well, over there is Andromeda..."

X-X-X

Charles leaned his head against Erik's shoulder, content in his lover's arms. He blinked almost drowsily, his expression changing slightly as he could feel the other's shifting emotions, "Erik?"

"Yes?" the taller asked softly, hand stroking across Charles' shoulders.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes," he replied. "Is there a reason something wouldn't be?" Even as he spoke though, his hand trailed further down along Charles' spine, stopping at the bottom and tracing over the small scar there.

Charles shrugged very slightly, "Your moods are shifting." He drew slightly away from the touch, recognizing where his fingers were.

Erik pressed his hand more firmly against Charles' spine. "Stay. I'm not about to spiral out of control into guilt, Charles. I just... I'm not sure what to do."

The telepath settled back where he was, "What do you mean, love?"

"You make things so hard, Charles," Erik sighed.

He tilted his head up to look at the other, "What?"

"I need to go in a few hours," Erik said.

The smaller man sighed, settling his head back down again, "Oh. Right."

Erik kissed his temple.

Charles traced his fingers gently across Erik's chest, "I love you."

"You're making it difficult again..."

His hand stilled and he sighed, "Sorry."

"I love you too," Erik said, still tracing the scar that he had put on Charles' spine.

Charles sighed, one of his hands reaching back to touch Erik's wrist.

"Hm?" Erik's hand finally stilled its motion.

"It's an odd feeling." He spoke by way of explanation.

"Emotionally or physically?" Erik asked softly.

"Both. Not used to much touch there."

Erik moved forward and placed both hands on Charles' back.

Charles shifted his hands back to Erik's chest.

"Well, I really am meeting a secret lover now," Erik said, smiling into his hair.

That garnered a smile, "So it would seem. How do you feel about that?"

"Rather content," Erik said, hands moving up and down his back.

"I'm glad." He tilted his head up enough to kiss Erik's jaw.

Erik smiled, bringing his hands back up. "I do love you."

"And I you, so very much."

"Good."

"I wish..." He stopped before he said anything further.

"I know," the German said softly.

Charles sighed again, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I just miss you when you leave."

"I know," he said softly. "I miss you too. But we deal with what we have."

"We do indeed, and we seem to be doing pretty well with it."

"I think so," Erik said, with a faint smile.

"As long as no one tries prying..." He murmured.

"Who would dare?"

"Frost. Azazel perhaps, but Frost certainly."

"True. But I'm not too worried."

"Go carefully, Erik."

"I will. I always have been."

Charles leaned up to kiss him lightly again, "Good."

Erik took a breath, returning the kiss.

* * *

><p>And now, a word from your author, Victoriousscarf: ... boys, you finally talk and then take two steps back. Way to go. Also, I'm heading out to Ireland for the next month (Meadow will be joining me there a bit later along) so be warned now updates are going to slow themselves down for a bit. But they will come! Thanks so much as always for your support!<p>

And Meadowlark here now! (Hey, an author's note from both of us, that's different) I just wanted to reiterate what Victoriousscarf said, since she'll be gone updates will likely be a bit slower, but I promise they will continued until I go to join her. No worries, you'll all have fair warning before they stop for a bit. Thank you so much for the response to the story!


	15. Children Should Not Have to Fight

_April 3__rd__, 1963_

Hank settled down on the couch in the afternoon, early April sunlight filtering in the room. He glanced around before turning the news on.

Alex came in a couple minutes later, leaning against the wall as a news report regarding an attack on a known anti-mutant lobbyist came on. The lobbyist had survived, though he was badly hurt and his attacker—described as a female mutant with fly wings—was dead. Havok's eyes widened and he sank down into a chair nearby as the report continued giving what details had been released.

Glancing over at him, Hank leaned over. "Alex?"

He drew his gaze away from the television, "Yeah?"

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I think so. Or I will be."

"Alright. Do you think this was something to do with Erik?"

"Well, you heard who her target was. I'll bet you it was."

"Damn," Hank sighed. "Should we tell the Professor?"

"I..." Alex finally nodded, "Probably. He'll find out sooner or later, best it's sooner."

Hank nodded.

"You want to tell him? I'll tell Sean?"

"Sure, you take the easier one. Can we do it together?"

He hesitated and then nodded, "Yeah, we should probably do it that way."

Hank rose. "We should probably do that then."

Alex sighed, getting up and shutting off the TV set

"Are we finding one and then the other, or both finding both?"

"I'd rather tell them one at a time.

"Let's find the Professor then."

Alex motioned for Hank to go first, "Probably in his office."

"He lives there," Hank said, and leaned over to squeeze Alex's shoulder before padding down the hall.

X-X-X

Erik slammed his way back into the base, the Hellfire club and Mystique trailing over him.

Mystique glanced at the others, continuing to follow Erik through the base and into his office, closing the door behind her.

"That was stupid," he seethed, several metal objects lifting off his desk.

She sighed, nodding slightly, "No argument there."

"It was moronic, unnecessary, and jeopardized the entire mission."

The shapeshifter nodded again, "Lethal too."

"For her, not the target."

"That was rather what I meant. His security will be increased now."

Erik growled, several objects starting to circle. "Next time, I swear to God I never want an idiot on my team."

She sighed, "It's hard to tell when there is one."

"She should have been obvious. I'm tempted to kick Emma to the curb but her powers are rarer. We should find someone else who can fly."

"And how would we even go about that, Erik? The fliers aren't the ones who get picked up. They go into hiding as soon as the news hears about them."

Another growl. "That... damnit!"

"I can look into it, but I don't expect to find much."

Erik ran a hand over his forehead. "We need to start building more contacts with the underworld. Mutants are becoming more obvious, and going further underground."

"I can get started on that, and set Azazel on it as well."

"Good. Do that."

"Is there anything else you need done?"

"Legwork on the next target," Erik said. "Here are the files."

She picked them up, skimming over them briefly, another idea forming.

"Something on your mind?"

"You're not going to like it. I'm not sure I like it."

"What. Is. It?"

"Does Charles have a Cerebro again yet?"

"He's working on it. It's not operational. You're right, I don't like it."

She sighed, "He's a resource, Erik. We'd at least have some idea of where to start looking then."

"I'll consider it," Erik replied, rubbing the back of his neck beneath the helmet.

"I'll see what I can do without it. It's going to take time, but we could viably have a flier again soon. I'll try to find one who actually knows what they're doing this time."

"Good. Get a start on that."

She nodded, slipping out the files still in hand.

X-X-X

Hank knocked on the Professor's door.

Charles looked up from the old maps of the estate he was pouring over, "Come in."

Pushing the door open, Hank held it for Alex. "We have some bad news..."

The professor looked from one to the other, considering skimming their minds but decided not to, "Oh? Come sit down."

Alex made his way over, hesitating before sinking into a chair.

Hank glanced at the other again before turning back to Charles. "Well, bad depending on your point of view... no I suppose this is bad from all of them. Angel was killed on what looks like a raid against an anti-mutant group."

Charles paled, sinking back in his chair, "And their target?"

"Alive, but hospitalized—in surgery from what the news said," Alex murmured.

"The attack failed... in every possible way."

"A-are there any other fatalities?"

"None on the news. If you're worried about Erik, they seem to know he's the ringleader and would be crowing it to the world," Hank replied. "So it's probably safe to assume he's alive."

Charles sighed again, "Thank you for letting me know. How are the two of you handling the news?"

Hank shrugged. "Not to sound callous, though I will? I barely knew her, and I didn't like her. She knew the risks of working as she did. I mean, they're a terrorist group."

Charles glanced at Alex who nodded his agreement. "I didn't want her to die, but I didn't like her and I'm not sure what to feel about it."

Hank glanced at Alex before back to the Professor, one cat-like ear flickering slightly.

Charles sighed again, "Very well. If either of you need to talk, you are always welcome. If you don't mind, though, for the moment..."

Alex rose, "We'll go."

"We just thought you should know," Hank said, standing as well.

Their teacher nodded, "Thank you."

Hank opened the door again, ushering Alex out.

Charles waited until they were gone before letting his head drop into his hands. Damn it to hell.

Turning to Alex, Hank sighed. "He looked concerned..."

Alex nodded a bit, "Well, think about it..."

"Hm?"

"We both know he's fallen for Magneto. This just drives home how different they really are."

"Fallen for it putting it lightly," Hank shook his head. "And I suppose you're right."

"Besides. He and Lehnsherr are the ones who brought Angel out of Vegas. Got her into this whole thing in the first place."

"I suppose so," Hank murmured. "I never did get the story of how they picked her up either... in fact I'm not sure how they picked up any of them really, except I suppose you..."

Alex grinned a bit, "Well, you can try and get it from Sean, but he's pretty closed-lipped about it."

"Oh? I wonder why?"

"Who knows."

"We should go talk to him."

"Yeah...probably."

As they walked down the hall, Hank slipped an arm around Alex's waist. "Are you alright? Or, how are you doing?"

Alex hesitated at that motion before sliding an arm around Hank's waist as well. "Well, like I said, I didn't want her to die. I didn't like her, but..." He shrugged, "I don't know. How are you doing?"

"I don't know. I honestly didn't have any attachment to her except annoyance. I'm sad to see a mutant die, and I'm worried about the Professor, and I'm worried about you. But me? I'm fine."

"There's not much to be worried about for me. I don't know really what to feel."

"Well, if you figure it out and want to talk, just let me know."

"I will."

"Good. Ah, Sean, there you are."

The redhead looked up, blinking at them, "Yeah?"

Hank didn't remove his arm from Alex. "Well... there's been some news..."

His green eyes moved from one to the other, "What news...?"

Alex hesitated, taking a breath, "Angel...well...I mean..."

"The news said Angel was killed during a raid on an anti-mutant league," Hank finished.

Sean blinked for a long moment, trying to process that, "She's dead?"

Alex nodded, "Yeah…that's what they said."

"...Oh."

"We just thought you and the Professor should know."

"Thanks..." he looked between them again before turning back to his book. Charles would go quiet, Alex would grow abrasive, and Sean would try to ignore things he didn't care to hear. And this? This ranked high on the list of things he didn't want to hear. He'd deal with it later, probably go shatter a few panes of glass in the old boathouse. His green eyes focused on a single word on the page, not moving from it and not really seeing it as his mind went over the images and conversations he still had of Angel prior to her leaving with Shaw.

Hank raised a brow and looked back at Alex.

Alex shrugged, "Well, we'll leave you to it then..."

Hank nodded and retreated. "Well, it's about lunch time..."

"Food then?"

"Would you like me to make you something, or would you care to cook?"

"I can try and cook...might just make myself a sandwich."

"Hm, that sounds about right. We have the makings."

"You want one?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

"I can do that."

"Thank you."

"No problem." They reached the kitchen and he started sorting out the supplies for sandwiches.

Hank slid onto a stool and watched him quietly.

He finished quickly, setting a plate with a sandwich in front of Hank and putting the supplies away before sitting down beside him.

"Thanks," Hank said softly.

"You're welcome. It's not much..."

"No, but you made it." He paused, chewing thoughtfully. "Have I told you I finally had a chance to finish that book you got me?"

"No, I don't think you did. Did you like it?"

"Yes. I'm still a little surprised you managed to track it down."

"It just took finding the right store."

"When? Where, if you don't mind. I'm curious to see it myself sometime... when I can, if I can."

"That day I ran into Angel. There's a little shop in the city, they've got contacts all over and were able to find it for me."

Hank arched his brows and nodded. "Well, I'll have to look into it. It sounds lovely. I could even wait for some parade or other if this doesn't work and claim I'm a performer."

"How is the image inducer coming?"

"Progress. I'm not sure how much, or if the concept is viable. But I'll get it."

"You will. If anyone can it's you."

Hank considered him over the sandwich. "Your confidence is actually rather inspiring, you know that? It makes me want to do exactly that."

"Really? Well, you inspire it."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Hank smiled at him. Alex hesitated before leaning over and kissing him lightly. Hank set the half of the sandwich he hadn't eaten down and leaned into the kiss. Havok's hand came up to stroke over the fur on Hank's cheek.

_April 9__th__, 1963_

Several days later, Erik slipped into the mansion early in the morning.

Charles woke with a start as the other crossed the psychic guards he placed at night. He looked around, levering himself into a sitting position, seeking out the mind of the intruder, _Erik?_

Erik's mind calmed suddenly at that. _Charles,_ he replied, warmly. _Hold on a moment._ Striding down the hallway he pushed Charles' door open.

Charles leaned over turning on the lamp, watching as the bedroom door opened, _What are you doing here?_

"I wanted to see you," Erik said and looked him over. "Sorry, it is three am isn't it?"

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to comb it down a bit from the sleep-mussed state it was in, "Yes it is. What brings you here now?"

Erik sat down on the edge of the bed and ruffled Charles' hair. "I missed you. I didn't think the time through. I'm sorry."

He leaned into the touch very slightly, "Don't get me wrong, I'm not unhappy to see you. Just surprised is all."

"I couldn't get away before now," Erik said. "Did you see the news?"

"I didn't. Hank and Alex did though."

Erik ran a hand along his cheek.

Charles sighed, "She was so young, Erik."

"And stupid. I didn't want that to happen."

"But it did."

"Younger have died, Charles."

"That is the worst justification I've heard!"

For a second Erik's eyes hardened. "Do you know why I survived the work camps?" he asked softly. "Because I had the interest of Shaw. The other children were just led to the chambers. At least she was fighting."

Charles closed his eyes drawing a deep breath to calm himself, "I didn't mean that it wasn't true, Erik. But...we're not there. Mankind isn't there. Children should not have to fight. Should not die while trying to kill people. I'm not saying it doesn't happen—I'm not naïve enough to believe that—but..."

"Oh Charles," he sighed. "That's exactly what's happening. And you're only lying if you think what happened there isn't going to happen again."

"It doesn't have to, Erik. It can still be prevented. All you're doing is giving them cause to fear us."

"They already had it," Erik said and snapped his mouth shut. "I'm sorry..."

Charles drew a deep breath, "Then you're worsening it. There are ways to do this without the show."

"Such as? Your way?"

"For one, yes."

Erik took a breath and looked away. "I should go."

Charles sighed, reaching out, but drawing his hand back before he could touch the other, "I'm sorry."

The taller paused and finished reaching out, taking Charles' hand. "I am too."

"...Please stay."

"We're out of our minds."

"We are. I just..." He sighed again, drawing his hand away.

"I love you," Erik said softly, leaning toward him again. "I'll stay."

Charles looked away, "I love you too. Damn me for it, but I do."

"You'll be as damned as me for it," Erik said, curled up on the bed, resting his head against Charles.

The telepath sighed, "I...We can't keep this up, Erik."

"Any suggestions?"

"Not at the moment..."

"Then we make do with what we have."

Charles finally turned to look at him again, resting a hand on Erik's cheek, "What are we going to do, Erik?"

"I don't know. For the first time in my life I'm feeling lost."

"Then it appears we are both lost."

Erik let out a low breath. "God..."

Charles traced his thumb along Erik's cheekbone.

"How are you doing? Otherwise?" Erik asked after a while of silence.

"Tired. Working to get everything done as best I can."

"I probably shouldn't wake you up in the middle of the night then, should I?"

That earned him a small smile, "Probably not."

Erik sighed, sitting up to pull his boots and shirt off, dropping them to one side before laying back down.

Charles lowered himself back down on the bed, resting his head on Erik's shoulder.

Erik turned to engulf him. "Oh Charles..."

"Erik, I love you so very much."

"Please don't ever stop."

"I couldn't even if I wanted to."

Erik ran his thumbs along Charles' cheekbones. "Good."

Charles leaned into the touch, closing his eyes, "Please be careful."

"I promise," Erik replied. "I have something to actually come back to now."

"Just be sure to come back," the telepath murmured, opening his eyes and scanning Erik's features.

"I'll always come back to you."

Charles leaned up to kiss the other gently.

Erik wrapped his arms more firmly around him and returned the kiss.

_April 22__nd__, 1963_

A couple of weeks after Angel's death, Azazel strode into the small kitchen they had, tail swishing behind him. "Our leader's gone missing again."

Riptide glanced up and shrugged.

Mystique entered and paused when she saw the others there. She continued in, slipping over to the pantry they had, sparing the rest barely a glance.

Riptide looked up and away again. Azazel perked slightly but Emma didn't even look up from her book. "Why, you've decided to at least grace us with your presence," Azazel murmured.

"Hardly voluntarily if that's what you think." Mystique replied, finally locating something she felt like eating.

"What? Hunger drive you to us?"

"Don't see that it's your business."

"And people accuse me of being a cold bitch," Emma remarked, still not looking up. "Honey, I have nothing on you except some amount of good breeding."

Mystique turned to look at her, leaning against the pantry door, "At least I didn't sleep with my boss."

"Probably not through lack of trying," Emma replied sweetly.

The shifter's brow arched, "Right..."

"Honey, do you remember when I'm a telepath? You're the hardest mind short of helmet boy and teleporter here to get into, but that doesn't mean I don't see things. And I do know you either ended up naked in his bed, or dreamed about it."

Azazel and Riptide looked at each other and decided to say nothing.

Mystique's smile turned dangerous, "Once. And it was a youthful desire with no bearing in reality. If I remember right...when they found you in Russia you were giving quite the mental show in your underwear to a man who could have been your father. How far were you planning to watch him go with that simulacrum of yours?"

Emma's smile turned brittle and Riptide moved from the table to riffle through the pantry, taking him out of any firing range. "I have the ability to give people what they want. Why shouldn't I? It has no actual bearing on me after all, but an old man's idle fantasy. It even helped our case."

Mystique actually laughed at that, "Helped your case? Having your diamond form nearly shattered, and you end up in prison, which need I remind you your darling Sebastian Shaw left you in, helped your case?"

"It would have, if it wasn't for your brother and your magnetic friend. I can't account for everything, dear, but at least I'm able to give people what they want. Which is more than I can say for you."

"Well, you obviously couldn't please Shaw enough if he left you to the dogs so quickly."

Emma couldn't respond to that, just staring at her. Riptide stepped out of the pantry and gave them both a long look. "You're worse than children with a toy, or mutts with a bone," he told them before leaving.

Mystique watched him go, a brow arching. He had a point but she wasn't about to concede it.

Emma watched him go, finally closing her book. "I may have been an idiot, and a fool, and a whole host of other things," she said softly. "And he may have been worse. But I did love him. So go to hell." Rising, she swept out of the room.

Raven's gaze followed her, but she didn't say anything for a moment. She glanced at Azazel, "You want to add your two cents too?"

"You have a remarkable gift for alienating people," he said and raised his hands. "But me? I'm just here drinking a martini."

"As you say. It's a gift."

He shrugged. "I'm sure your other ones are more useful."

"I can be personable when I want to be."

"Really now?" he asked, arching a brow. "I'm honestly not sure I've ever seen the evidence of that."

"I said when I want to be. I have no desire to be with any of you."

"Why do you hate us so much?"

"Because Emma's touch on the mind is violent and damaging to all concerned. It cuts like that diamond form she has. Riptide? I really don't have an opinion on him one way or the other. As to you? Well, I've grown more calloused recently, but your brutality is excessive to what needs to be done."

He blinked and shrugged. "We're a brutal people. Have you taken a look at your Erik lately?"

"I have. He does what needs to be done. That typically does not include dropping people from seven stories up."

Azazel barely managed not to roll his eyes. "Sure. You can think that."

"I don't even know why I'm having this conversation." She turned to leave.

"Do you ever get lonely?" Azazel asked. "After all, you left all your friends for people you hate, and I wonder how much company our illustrious leader is to you. Clearly, you aren't even keeping each other warm at night."

She tensed, "Whether I get lonely or not, is no one's business but my own."

He shrugged again, spreading his arms. "You're prickly. You might want to consider that next time you feel lonely."

"I've heard it before." She intended to leave, but some part of her wanted the companionship, even if it was more of a fight than that on her part.

"You don't seem to have taken their advice, whoever it was that told you."

"It was a long time ago. I've changed." _I've known what it is to trust and to break that trust._

"Or you just like to think you have," he said, rising and teleporting across the room, stepping through the door. "Good night then, Mystique."

"Good night, Azazel."

He disappeared in a red puff of smoke.

She sighed, waving the last vestiges of the smoke away before heading to her room.

* * *

><p>So, a good deal less fluff this chapter. We can promise more next chapter. This chapter feels a bit abrupt and Alex and Hank seem a bit cold, but they're very distinctly trying not to think about the significance of things. Anyhow, thank you for the wonderful response we've received so far! Have a great week, all!<p> 


	16. It's a Beautiful Song In Your Mind

_April 23__rd__, 1963_

The next morning, Erik woke slowly, Charles in his arms.

The telepath blinked himself awake, looking over at the clock and sighing before glancing up at Erik, "Good morning."

"Morning," he murmured.

"Did you sleep well?"

"I sleep better when I am here," he replied. "And yourself?"

"I did." He sighed, drawing back and hauling himself up, "We should be getting up, I think I may have found a location for the start of Cerebro."

Erik made a sound of protest, almost trying to draw Charles back into bed, but nodded, rising. "I'll see if any of my clothes are still upstairs," he murmured.

"They should be, unless you've taken them."

"I haven't," Erik said, running a hand through his hair. "I'll be back in a few moments."

The telepath nodded, reaching out to pull his chair into the right position so he could get up. Erik pushed the chair closer before leaving, unable to watch Charles get out of bed at the moment.

Charles waited until he had left to get up and go to find his clothes, managing to get them on with only moderate difficulty.

Erik returned by the time he was done, purple turtleneck on.

"You look nice, Erik."

Taking a breath, Erik reached forward to run a hand through Charles' hair. "Thank you."

The smaller man batted his hand away, but smiled, "I just finished combing that."

"I can comb it for you if you like. Besides, it looks better this way."

"It looks better mussed?"

"Yes," Erik said, with a gentle smile.

"Then it's fine mussed I suppose," He chuckled softly.

Erik smiled, flicking his hair again. "Breakfast? I need a pot of coffee before dealing with anything else."

"I think breakfast sounds delightful. A pot of coffee might be a little excessive though."

"I'll let you have a cup out of it."

Charles laughed quietly, turning to wheel out of the room.

Slowly, Erik followed him, glancing around the mansion.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"It would be a waste of your money," Erik replied, looking back down at him. "I'm not thinking much of anything. Just looking."

"You've seen it before..."

"Yes," Erik replied. "But it's a lovely place."

"Thank you. It's still far more empty than I like."

"Well, that's the point of Cerebro," he replied and paused, remembering Mystique's suggestion and almost cringing.

"I suppose it is." He glanced up at Erik, "Something wrong?"

"No. A stray thought. It's nothing." He reached the kitchen, pulling pans down with his mind as he dug through the refrigerator.

Charles nodded very slightly, watching him, "Do you want a hand?"

"If you could start the coffee."

The telepath nodded slightly, moving to get that started.

A while later, Hank entered and stopped. "Scrambled eggs?" Erik asked mildly. Hank shrugged and sat down.

"Is there coffee at least?"

"Almost finished." Charles replied.

Alex came in about a minute later, pausing before moving over to sit down next to Hank. Hank glanced at him, murmured a soft good morning. Alex offered him a bit of a smile and a softly murmured, "morning."

Erik arched a brow at Hank's smile at that. "Hank," he said.

The blue mutant's spine straightened. "Yes?"

"Do you have plans for the new Cerebro?"

"Yes," Hank said slowly, looking between Charles and Erik.

"May I see them after breakfast?" Erik asked and Hank looked at Charles again.

Charles nodded slightly, his consent given in that motion. Alex scowled at that, his disagreement palpable.

Hank set a hand on Alex's knee. "If you like," he said and Erik nodded, floating the pan over several plates and dishing up the food.

Charles poured four mugs of coffee.

"Is Sean around?" Erik asked, mildly curious.

"He was up late last night," Charles answered, "But I think I hear him stirring."

Erik floated a fork over and started eating. Alex turned most of his attention to his food. Charles settled at the table as well.

Erik remained leaning against the counter, watching the other's eat. Sean came in a couple minutes later, glancing at Erik but heading straight for the coffee. Tempted to float the coffee pot out of his reach, Erik nodded to him in greeting.

Sean mumbled something that might have been "morning" and then picked up a coffee cup and poured himself some, getting a bit of food as well.

Finishing, Erik turned to Hank. "The plans?"

Hank finished and nodded. "This way if you would," he said, rising and motioning for Erik to go before him.

Charles watched them, finishing his meal before following.

Sean blinked himself a bit more awake, looking at Alex, "Plans?"

"For Cerebro."

"The professor's letting him look at those?"

"Apparently." The older teen set his dishes in the sink and slipped out to join the others, completely uninterested in having that conversation.

Once in the lab, Hank handed the plans to Erik who looked them over. "What do you want me to do then?"

"We need help placing the metal plating, and all in all rebuilding it. If you're willing to of course, Erik," Charles murmured.

"I can get the plates up," Erik replied. "The finer technical details..."

"Will be left to me and Charles," Hank replied.

The professor nodded slightly, "Thank you, Erik."

He shrugged, closing the plans. "Do you have the place and materials?"

"I've located a cavern that should be just the right size for what we need. It's through a wall from one of the old escape tunnels. Alex should be able to get us the access we need."

"Good," he said. "Then shall we get started?"

Charles nodded as Alex entered. "Where are we starting, Professor?"

"Cerebro," Hank replied. "Can you help?"

"I'm not one for fine detail work..." Havok replied.

"I can help you guide it," the telepath suggested.

"No."

Charles almost recoiled at the force of that refusal, vocal psychic and emotional all at once and twined with a note of, was that panic?

"We just need access to the tunnel," Hank said, reaching out a hand and resting it on Alex's arm. "That doesn't require much detail work."

The blond drew a deep breath, nodding, "Point me at what you need blown up. I can do that..."

"Good," Hank said, giving him a reassuring smile and leading the way, Erik hanging back.

Charles watched them go, looking up at Erik, "Everything alright?"

"Yes," he replied. "Just thinking."

"Alright then." He turned to follow his students.

Erik sighed, following.

X-X-X

Charles leaned down, taking hold of his leg at the calf and straightening it out, listening to the joint of the braces ratchet into place. He repeated the motion with the other leg before reaching up and catching hold of the edge of his dresser, levering himself to a standing position and straightening the braces' joints at his hips. He swallowed. God, it hurt. The strain on the muscles was great—the atrophy that had occurred was taking a long time to reverse.

Scowling slightly, Erik lay on the bed, watching Charles. He'd put up the metal plating for Cerebro earlier, and after dinner the pair had retreated back to Charles' rooms.

The telepath straightened fully, using the dresser to turn and leaning against it to face Erik.

Erik smoothed his expression. "How long have you been working with those?"

"About a month. Hoping to get my legs used to this before I move to actual motion."

Erik swallowed and nodded. "Have you been making progress?"

"Slowly, but yes."

Another breath, and Erik nodded. "Good."

Charles looked him over, "Everything alright?"

"Yes," Erik said, tilting his head slightly.

"Good. Thank you for your help with Cerebro."

"Of course," he murmured. "All that metal sang... it's very high quality."

"It needed to be. It needs to be unreachable from the outside, and that happens to be the right sort to do so."

"Still, it was good to work with," he said. Even if a bit tiring.

"Thank you again for your help."

"You're welcome," he replied, eyes looking at the braces again.

"What is it?"

"It's almost poetic in a way, don't you think?" He murmured, "That after meeting me you spend your life surrounded by metal? Cerebro, the wheelchair, now these..."

Charles offered him a faint smile at that, "I suppose so. The metal is an ever-present part of our world."

"But it used to not leave its mark on you nearly so much," Erik said softly. "I'm not sure I'm complaining mind, but..."

"Well, the ones that leave a mark," he motioned to the braces and the chair, "are being filtered aside. Cerebro is necessary, and I'll probably end up working with it for the sub-basements. Built in around cement of course for structural support."

"Suppose that's true," Erik sighed. "Can you walk at all in those?"

"A very little. They're not built for motion, just to allow me to stand."

Erik nodded, still watching him.

"Hopefully a pair that I can move in without utilizing levers will be doable, if not I'm going to have to figure out another way to re-train the muscles. This is to help them support my weight."

"And it's helping?"

"It is. Hopefully standing without them will come soon, but we shall have to see." He pushed off of the dresser slightly, hiding the grimace as his legs protested and he ended up leaning hard enough in the braces that the metal bit against him.

Erik sat up suddenly, lifting Charles off the ground slightly by the braces.

The telepath startled very slightly at that, "Erik!"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

He smiled faintly. "Guess."

His gaze swept over the German before a smile slowly spread across his features, "Erik..."

"Yes?" Erik hummed, rising and standing in front of Charles.

He judged the distance, his arms moving to circle Erik's neck and draw him down just a couple of inches so he could kiss him. Erik grinned against the kiss, stepping closer and encircling Charles in his grip.

Charles' hand moved to tangle in the taller man's hair, reveling in the fact that he was able to stand (well almost) and kiss the other, rather than have to draw him down to the height of his chair.

Drawing him just a little bit closer, Erik ignored the metal, accepting it then as just as part of Charles, allowing them to stand together. The telepath smiled into the kiss, his body almost flush against the other, his joy at being able to feel that fact, palpable in the room around them.

"God," Erik said softly into the kiss. "Charles..."

"Y-yes, Erik?"

"Your emotions, they're everywhere," he murmured, pulling Charles back into the kiss.

_Is that good or bad?_

_Good,_ he replied. _Very good, but God._

Charles chuckled, allowing his emotions to wrap around the other gently, tenderly. Joy, peace, love. Erik made a noise in the back of his throat.

_Let me in? Share yours?_Charles brushed his mind against the edge of Erik's.

_How far?_

_Only as far as you wish._

Erik took a breath, drawing back slightly, only enough to rest their foreheads together. Slowly, he opened up his mind as much as he could. Love, want, protection, traces of regret that would never go away, the feel of Charles in his arms, and underneath everything the faint trill, almost song of metal in the room, and faintly throughout the rest of the house, Cerebro underneath striking a perfect pitch note in his awareness.

Charles smiled softly, "It's beautiful, Erik."

He let out a low breath, returning the smile. "I'm fairly sure I haven't heard that before..."

"Well, it is. It's a beautiful song I can hear in your mind. It almost glows golden."

Erik smiled faintly, smoothing back Charles' hair. "It's what I hear all the time."

"I'm not just talking about the metal, Erik. I'm talking about _you_. Your strength, your emotions, and yes to some extent your gift."

Erik blinked at him a moment before leaning in, having to kiss him again.

Charles leaned up into the kiss, _I love you, Erik._

_I know_ he managed, unable to even think any other coherent thoughts. _I adore you._

The telepath pressed up harder into the kiss, his fingers combing through Erik's dark hair.

Fingers wrapping around his waist, Erik just pulled him further against him, taking a step backward.

Charles made a soft sound at the motion, glad that he was still hovering just off the ground as it saved the risk of him getting caught and being unable to move with the step.

Erik lifted him gently further off the ground, until they were almost at eye level. "I could do anything to you like this, couldn't I?" he said softly in the small space between them.

The telepath nodded very slightly, "You very well could."

Erik took a deep breath, pulling him back in hard for a kiss while stepping backward across the room quickly.

He startled a bit at that, but pressed into the kiss, one hand moving to catch hold of Erik's shoulder to keep himself balanced with the motion.

_How hard are these to get off?_ Erik asked, pulling at Charles. _You've gotten enough practice for tonight, right?_

_They're a bit of a trick to get off, but it can be done. And yes, I believe I have indeed._ His fingers traced the collar of Erik's turtleneck.

_Good,_ he replied, opening the different hinges with his mind.

His hand trailed down Erik's chest, lightly dusting over it.

Breath hitching, Erik got the braces off, catching Charles when he no longer was wearing enough metal to float up, and laying him down on the bed. "Love you."

Charles' other hand moved to trace down Erik's back, "Love you too."

"Good," Erik all but growled into his ear.

* * *

><p>And we'll leave those two there. Cerebro is now up, and almost running. The results of it will start showing up soonish slowly but surely. Erik and Charles are still trying their damnedest to ignore the world around them and the trouble it means for them, and so far they seem to be succeeding, though there are some who might disagree with their opinion in that area. Hope you enjoyed the latest installment!<p> 


	17. Paint The Town Red

_April 25__th__, 1963_

Alex knocked on the lab door and slipped inside, "So, I hear this rumor that the image inducer's set?"

Hank glanced up with a smile. "I wasn't aware our group was large enough to spread rumors. But yes, it's just about set. Running some more tests to double check it but..."

"So...you think those tests could be done by...oh say a week from tomorrow?"

"Oh most likely," Hank replied, missing the implication of the question.

Alex leaned over, kissing Hank's cheek, "Great. What do you say to going out then?"

"I," he shifted, looking like he would have been blushing. "Together? I mean, yes."

Alex drew a couple of tickets out and set them on the table, "If you'd like? There's a band playing in the city I thought you might like. No one needs to know for the sake of your intellectual reputation."

Hank looked from the tickets to Alex, and back again before grinning. "Well, so long as we don't tell the others..."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he grinned in response.

Reaching out, Hank placed a hand on Alex's arm. "Thank you."

Alex laid his hand over Hank's, "You're welcome."

The larger mutant offered him a smile. "So... concert. New York City. Any other plans?"

"Maybe get a bit of food somewhere? Paint the town red so to speak."

Hank arched a brow. "So long as it's not literally... could you stand a bookstore?" he added once he thought about it. He missed browsing for books after all, and his collection at the mansion well, hadn't run out persay since he was allowed free access to Charles' library, but did not have certain volumes he was looking for. On the other hand, he didn't want to necessarily drag Alex somewhere the blond did not want to be.

"I could probably stand a bookstore. In fact, I know just the place that specializes in old books," the younger man grinned a bit, knowing the bookstore tended to carry rare books as well. It seemed the sort of place Hank would enjoy, "Though it's across town from the concert. It's a doable trip."

"Thank you, Alex."

"You're welcome, Hank."

He leaned up to kiss him gently. "So a week?" he asked, half wanting to press the kiss and not quite daring.

Alex returned the kiss, but drew back after a moment, stepping away, "A week."

_May 3__rd__, 1963_

He must have changed ties twelve times. Hank wasn't even aware he still owned so many ties, and he'd checked the mirror three times as much. He'd tested the image inducer for over twelve hours, so he only hoped nothing went wrong.

Alex had actually gone so far as to ask Charles' advice on what to wear and so he found himself standing in the entryway wearing a nice enough outfit that was still decidedly, well, him. The shirt was a solid color and a button-up, rolled up to the elbows with a dark vest buttoned over it and the top two buttons undone. The shirt was tucked into a pair of dark pants that were just a hint off of the shade of the vest. He wasn't entirely sure about the vest, but it'd do. He could take it off if he decided he didn't like it later.

Hank stopped at the top of the stairs, before peeking around. "Are you sure you want to go out?"

Alex blinked up at him for a moment before his brain computed that this was Hank as he was before the missile crisis. He wasn't sure he liked it, the illusion, but he knew it was needed. Havok nodded firmly, "Of course. You set?"

Hank sighed, coming down the stairs. "I feel strange. But yes, I'm set."

"No one'll know." Alex slipped his hand into Hank's giving it a reassuring squeeze, relieved to feel the fur there still, letting go and heading out to the car, "C'mon."

Swallowing, Hank nodded and trailed after him out to the front steps and down them, looking around the grounds.

Alex got into the car he'd brought around to the front of the mansion, glancing over at Hank again and offering him a smile, "It'll be fine."

"I hope so," he said, getting in the car. "I mean, I'm excited but at the same time, well, I've become a bit of a hermit I suppose."

Alex grinned, "All the more reason to get out. So, bookstore first?"

"Please," Hank said with a small smile.

"Can do." Alex glanced at him again as he pulled the car away from the mansion, "I like the outfit."

Hank glanced over at him and shifted. "Thank you. It was the tenth one I tried. I forgot I even owned some of these things. Yours is... really quite nice." He'd never had any ideas how to compliment girls, telling Raven all about her cells. He had even less idea how to compliment Alex. At least not about things like that.

Alex offered him a bit of a smile at that, sparing a second to look down at himself before pulling onto Graymalkin Lane, "You don't think the vest is too much?"

"I think it looks rather dashing."

He grinned, "Thanks. I wasn't sure, but..." he shrugged, "guess it works."

"It does," Hank assured

"Cool."

They pulled up outside of the bookshop a little over an hour later. "Well, here we are," Alex said, watching his reaction.

Glancing over at him, Hank slipped out, looking around as if expecting someone to call him out on doing something terribly wrong at any moment. Instead, he managed to get into the bookstore with no problems. "... Oh my stars and garters..."

Alex stepped in behind him, letting the door close and glancing up at the old-fashioned brass bell like he had when he'd been in just before Christmas, "You like?"

"Very much," he said, grinning. "It's better than a kid at a candy shop."

That earned a laugh, "Good."

"I'm still somewhat surprised you managed to stumble on the place, but certainly not complaining."

"It took some searching...and maybe a bit of begging other stores."

The taller glanced over at him, adjusting his glasses. "You astound me sometimes."

Alex blinked in confusion, "What?"

"That you would go through the trouble I suppose," Hank replied.

"Well...it was worth it." The thought of _You're worth it_ remained unsaid.

"Thank you," Hank said, grinning. "It's amazing and ooooh," he was distracted by a display halfway through his sentence, bee-lining for it.

Alex chuckled, his gaze moving around the shop as he followed Hank. Books weren't a big draw for him, but he was glad to see Hank relaxing a bit. Eventually Hank pulled himself out of the book-daze, to find at least five volumes in his arms. "Well..."

Alex laughed quietly, "Well. Shall we see about paying for those?"

"I have enough, I believe," he replied. "After all, it's not like I've been spending my funds on anything else but... yes, I'm glad you have a car."

Alex grinned again, motioning Hank toward the counter to check out. Hank meandered over, somehow managing not to get into a protracted discussion with the bookseller over scientific first editions, and he walked out beaming. Alex followed him out, going and getting the car unlocked before sliding in behind the wheel again.

"Thank you Alex, really," the taller mutant said softly. "I'm not sure you really understand what that meant to me."

He managed not to say "it's just a bookstore", settling for shrugging, "You're welcome, Hank."

"So, dinner I believe?"

"Dinner it is. You have a sort of food you really like?"

"Not particularly. You?" Hank asked, sincerely wanting to know for future reference.

He shrugged, "Not really, maybe just head in the direction of the concert and see if anything catches our eye?"

Hank laughed. "I'm up for that."

Alex offered him another grin, pulling away from the curb and heading off.

Hank glanced at the boards going past. "What about Thai food?"

"Sounds good." Alex had noted the place and circled the block to try and find a parking space. Finally finding one he pulled the car to the curb, getting out.

Hank paused and glanced at him before getting out. "Actually, it seems almost pricey, though I suppose this is downtown and..."

"And it's not that pricey if we go dutch? If you're okay with that, of course?" Alex asked, wanting to make sure they were on the same page in that respect. It would draw less attention.

"Yes, that," Hank glanced over, seeing another couple enter, "Would probably be a good plan." For a moment his entire spine tensed as he fully processed the fact they were out in public. The next step forward he took took him out of Alex's space a bit further.

Alex watched the other couple as well, allowing Hank to withdraw, something between relief and irritation curling within him, "We're just two friends getting a bit of food, Hank." He murmured.

He nodded, glancing over at Alex and smiling, though it was almost strained for a moment. "Yes. We are." He thought the fur along his spine was standing up, but was not entirely certain. He rather hoped it was not.

"Then let's do so."

Hank held the door open. "After you then."

Alex slipped inside, glancing around, "Nice enough place."

"For being randomly picked out, yes," he agreed, motioning for a table for two.

Moments later the harried looking waitress showed them to a table, setting two menus down in front of them before weaving her way back through the tables to deal with the next set of people walking in.

Hank glanced at the menu, going through it completely, front to back, shifting slightly every once and a while. Alex glanced at him over the menu, murmuring, "You okay over there?"

"Yes," he said, glancing up. "I just prefer to be thorough of course and," he paused, glancing around. "I'm not used to other people, I suppose anymore. I'm afraid everyone's looking at me but no one really is. I really have become a hermit these past months."

"Well, we'll have to see about you getting out a bit more then, hm?"

Hank offered him a small smile, finally setting the menu down. "Yes. I suppose we will now."

The waitress came over and took their orders before slipping away again, moving just as quickly as before.

"Sounds like a plan then."

Hank grinned. "And you? How are you enjoying this?"

"A lot. Usually end up heading out on my own, forget how nice cities are with someone else there."

"You don't invite Sean out much then?" Hank asked, not jealous but curious.

Alex shrugged in response, "He and I get along well enough, and he's fine for going into town, but longer trips...not so much."

"Oh?"

"His music choices for one, and I dunno, like I said we get along, but we don't have much in common that we're inclined to share. I mean...well, if you actually get him talking he's got all these big plans and all I can think is: 'you're a—" he dropped his voice even more "'mutant and you still can't keep your voice in check half the time. What makes you think...'. I dunno, maybe I'm just bitter."

Hank blinked, "Well, bitterness is completely acceptable in our lives, we'd be kidding the world if we claimed we weren't."

"Still," Alex shrugged again, "it isn't my job to go around popping holes in his dreams. You'd just think he'd be a little more realistic, y'know?"

"Maybe. But he... is perhaps the one of us so far to not have the world suddenly crash down in around him. He's been on the edge of horrible events, sure, but... how old is he even?"

"_Maybe_ seventeen? It's never really come up. Younger than I am, I know that."

"Well, his mutation is easy enough to hide, and seems to have manifested easily enough. And he's not dating his own worst enemy either."

Alex considered that before nodding, "True."

Their server returned with their meals.

Hank smiled at her and nodded to her before turning back to Alex once she left. "... You do realize I was referring to the Professor and not you with that last statement, correct?"

"Yes, I was able to figure that out. I do sometimes wonder though if the Prof's worst enemy isn't you-know-who and is himself."

A brow rose at that. "Oh?" Actually, Hank did agree with that once he thought about it.

"We all know he pushes himself too hard, we also know he's fallen too hard for someone who he knows he shouldn't have. But there's not much he can do about it." He shrugged, almost wishing he hadn't voiced it, "I dunno, just a thought."

"It's one I'm inclined to agree with. He's strong though, which has gotten him this far, and I hope his vision gets him the rest of the way."

"His vision or his blind optimism?"

"I would prefer to think of it as his vision..." Hank murmured.

Alex sighed, "Sorry."

"He is blindly optimistic, it's true. But what else should we do? Follow Erik?"

"God no. I don't know. I'm just starting to feel antsy. It's been over six months and we've done _nothing_. While they've been out making it so we can't show our faces even more solidly than before."

Hank sighed. "I know. We almost have Cerebro mark two up... I worry that Erik is distracting the Professor though."

Alex held his fingers up about an inch apart, "Just a little."

Hank smiled, letting out a huff of breath. "I worry."

"We all do. I don't trust him. And I'm pretty sure I never will."

Hank nodded. "Probably the wisest course honestly."

"Not like we can do anything about it though."

"No," Hank said. "At least the food is good," he continued, glancing down at his plate in an attempt to change the subject. Tonight was supposed to be a date, a happy night.

Alex grinned at that, "Yeah, that's always a plus."

"I've gotten very good at finding them," Hank said, and hoped that didn't sound too bitter.

Havok's smile grew fond, "We need someone who can do that."

"Always glad to oblige."

They finished their meal after that and Alex signaled for the check. They paid, splitting the bill, and he rose, "Shall we then?"

"Yes," Hank said with a grin, managing not to bounce around now that the concert was coming closer.

Leaving the restaurant they returned to the car, Alex speaking as he unlocked it, "And we'll get there with time to spare, always a good thing."

"You're the type to be earlier to everything, aren't you?"

"Better than being late."

"I'm not disagreeing," Hank said, glancing over at him and smiling fondly.

"Yeah, I know, just saying." Alex pulled away from the curb, heading toward the concert venue.

"And you're alright with the concert?" Hank asked, still unsure about his music selections.

"Me? Yeah. Why?"

"Just making sure I suppose."

Alex glanced at him, "Are you alright with it?"

"Very pleased," he replied. "Truly. Just, come on, I like to check and recheck, and check things again, remember?"

The blond grinned, "Ever the scientist." The fell silent for a while until they reached the venue and Alex located another parking spot, breaking the silence, "The other benefit to being early: actually finding parking."

"Your secret is revealed," Hank said, shaking his head slightly. "You do seem to have a way which machines."

Alex arched an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

Hank offered him another grin before getting out, making his way toward the concert hall, humming slightly under his breath. Alex locked the car and then fell into step beside Hank.

X-X-X

Hours later Hank settled back into the car, grinning. "Have I mentioned I find you rather amazing lately?"

Alex glanced at him, returning the grin, "Maybe once or twice... You're pretty amazing yourself."

"Thank you for that," Hank said, still all but bouncing in his seat.

The younger man turned the car north, heading toward the outskirts of the city, "You enjoy yourself then?"

"Very much, almost unbelievably so. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Hank grinned again, settling back for the drive, humming under his breath. "Did you enjoy it?"

"I did, very much. Thanks for coming with me." Alex glanced at him, reaching over for his hand as they reached the highway.

Hank turned his hand so their palms were together. "Of course. I wouldn't have missed it."

"We'll have to do it again some time."

"We will," Hank agreed softly.

Alex fell silent, pulling off a couple exits before the mansion. Hank arched a brow at him but hardly questioned it. He pulled off to an overlook, putting the car into park, "Wanted to show you this before we went back."

Hank glanced around, and grinned over at Alex. "You really are making time as romantic as you can manage, aren't you?"

"Huh? Oh...maybe a little."

"Thank you for that too," Hank managed, a glimmer of the uncomfortableness of earlier coming back before he squashed it down.

Alex offered him a bit of a smile, "You're welcome."

"It's very lovely."

Havok hesitated for a moment before leaning over and tracing a thumb over Hank's cheekbone. Hank finally turned back to him.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"Me? I just play with science," Hank said, and would have flushed if his skin allowed it anymore. "I'm not much."

"And manage to find usually the right thing to say, and are willing to put up with me."

"Put up with you? Alex, no one 'puts up with' you. You're..."

Alex put a finger over Hank's mouth to silence him before leaning in and kissing him. Accepting the motion, Hank leaned slightly into the kiss. Twining his fingers in Hank's fur—invisible under the illusion of the image inducer, Alex leaned up into the kiss.

Hank tilted his head and tried to shift closer despite the seat. Alex's other hand moved to where he knew the image inducer was clipped to Hank's belt and shut it off, moving as close as he could with the seat.

The larger mutant didn't even notice at first, twining his arms around Alex's waist. Alex smiled against the kiss, the hand that had been at Hank's belt moving up to scratch behind his ear absently.

Finally, Hank drew back slightly and blinked. "Wait, it..."

Alex pulled back slightly at that, "Hm?"

"The image inducer, it seems to have shorted out," Hank said with a frown, deeply concerned that it might have stopped working so quickly.

"No it didn't."

"It... didn't?" Hank asked.

"I shut it off," Alex's answer was matter-of-fact, but his tone was quiet, almost hesitant, unsure if he'd acted wrongly.

"You... oh." He blinked. "You did?"

The smaller man nodded, "Yeah."

"Why?" Hank asked softly.

"Because it's not you. This is you. You're gorgeous, Hank. Every bit of you."

The larger swallowed and offered him a smile. "So are you, you know."

Alex shrugged a bit, not quite dismissing the compliment. Hank smiled softly and ran his hand over Alex's hair. The blond responded by gently combing his fingers through Hank's fur, smiling a bit.

* * *

><p>And now kittens, it's time for a historical note, brought to you by your Historian Author, Victoriousscarf. Who may or may not have written her senior thesis on a topic very similar to this.<p>

And this topic is: Homosexuality in the 60s! This is actually a relatively hard topic to find more than basic information on. Clearly, there were homosexual communities and areas ((otherwise the Stone Wall Riots in 1969 would have been pretty much impossible)) not to mention the fact such communities and subculture had existed on the East Coast, specifically in New York, since before 1890. One of the problems is, when most people talk about homosexuality in around this time period, they're either talking about McCarthyism and the Lavender Scare in the 50s, or events Post-Stonewall Riots. Not that there aren't sources, I just haven't been able to hunt them down yet, mostly due to not having access to my library's interloan system and lacking funds.

Now, for the interest to this particular story. There were obvious gay communities, even if most people didn't want to acknowledge them. However, Erik, Charles, Hank and Alex are not part of any of said communities. Also, the two couples take a very different view on the fact they're together with guys. Part of this has to do with their backstory. Erik and Charles for instance hit their formative years during WWII, a time when the war actually set up a lot of modern day homosexual culture. Charles at least probably didn't encounter much overt homophobia on a general basis as far as I can tell. It wasn't really a topic discussed. Erik, on the other hand, hit his formative years/events in a concentration camp. Homosexuals were persecuted by the Nazis, and had the second highest percentage of deaths in the camps, due to the fact many other prisoners would turn on them and beat them to death. Not to mention the fact that after the war was over and the concentration camps liberated, many homosexuals were actually sent back to prison to finish serving out their terms. While Erik didn't really interact with the rest of the camp, being it seems Shaw's special project, I still feel he would at least be aware of what was going on with the rest of the camp, in which case he would know about these things. I've never been able to decide whether that would make him inclined to go, "Yes, I'm mutant and proud, so I'm proud of my other strange-ness as well, so gay and proud as well" or "Oh hell no, I'm dealing with being a mutant I'm not that too." In this story, he clearly leans toward the first inclination, since he kisses Charles in a public park ((though he assumes correctly Charles is going to fudge the minds of everyone watching them not to notice the man-snogging going on in their park.))

Hank and Alex however, came to their teen years and majority just about smack dab in the middle of... McCarthyism. I'm going to try not to start on McCarthy or this note will end up longer than the chapter, which it is already in danger of doing. Basically, this means watching the trial of Alger Hiss while a kid, and probably internalizing it to some point, at least/especially with Hank. The basic notion at this point is that if you're homosexual, you're a traitor to your country. No, I'm not kidding. They considered homosexuals too weak to be able to keep state secrets, not to mention extra susceptible to blackmail due to wanting to keep their secret lifestyles well, secret. In which case, I could see Alex and Hank, Hank especially, a bit more twitchy about being homosexual during this time period. What's interesting is the use of the film's line, "You didn't ask so I didn't tell," which Hank says when revealed he's a mutant, since that directly relates to "Don't ask, don't tell": the policy of the United States military to basically ignore any homosexual members serving. The film is either flat out saying Hank's gay, or equating being a mutant clearly with being gay. ((Also, a good book about this topic for the 50s, running up to Kennedy, is _Manhood and American Political Culture in the Cold War_. It's one of my favorite books. But I am not typing that author's blasted name again, not even for you guys after citing it as much as I had to.))

Long note short: Hank and Alex are probably going to be dealing with the issue of homophobia more than Charles and Erik, who are focused on other issues, like the fact they're supposed to be mortal enemies, than the moral or cultural ramifications of smooching on the couch. Hank and Alex feel more down to earth, so they're going to be dealing with this set of issues. And when we get to 1969, we will be dealing with Stone Wall and that aftermath. Which means... I need to go find those books.

Cheers all, and thanks for the continued support of this story! It means a lot to us.

And a short note from Meadowlark, here. Just letting you guys know that I'm leaving tomorrow to join VS in Ireland for about a week and a half. We _might_have the chance to update between now and getting back, but don't count on it. You'll likely hear from us again when we get back. Hope you enjoyed the latest installment!


	18. Not Something to Be Cured

_May, 1963_

Hank glanced from his paper over to Sean. "Are... are you sure this is the right place?"

Sean blinked at the mansion that looked like it could rival the Professor's home for cost, though it seemed newer, done in a southern plantation style, "You're the one with the co-ordinates. I'm just driving."

"Maybe we should have made Alex do this..." Hank murmured, checking the image inducer again.

"Yeah, 'cause he'd be so much more comfortable than we are going and talking to a family who runs the biggest pharmaceutical corporation in the US? I don't think he'd be happy with us for that. Your image inducer's fine." The redhead pulled the car to a stop in front of the steps up to the mansion, "C'mon."

Hank made a sound of protest, finally getting out of the car. "You seem remarkably comfortable with this."

"My grandfather owns a castle in Ireland. We'd go over there in the summers when I was little."

Hank looked at him in surprise, eyebrows arching.

"Yeah. Exactly." He rang the bell, waiting until a servant opened the door, "Good afternoon, we're here to see Mr. Worthington?"

The servant blinked from him to Hank, who stood awkwardly behind him, and waved slightly. That seemed to impress the servant even less. "And who is asking for him?"

"Representatives from Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Professor Xavier spoke with him on the phone a couple of days ago regarding the education of his son. We're expected."

The servant quirked his brow again before stepping back. "Wait in the parlor then."

Sean nodded slightly, following the motion of the servant's hand to the parlor.

Hank trailed after him, glancing to the top of the stairs where he thought he saw someone move. "I know I should be used to this after the Xavier mansion but..." he shook his head.

Sean nodded, "You could fit half my hometown into a place this size. One family, with two sons. That's all that's in this house, beside the servants."

The larger shook his head. "It seems a waste of space."

"It is, on the other hand it means people have jobs. It takes a lot of work to keep a place like this looking nice."

"Some job," Hank murmured.

"Yeah," Sean agreed quietly from where he was looking over a family portrait, frowning very slightly as he took in the body language of the people in it. Not so idyllic as it could be at first glance. He turned away when the parlor door opened again.

Warren Kenneth Worthington stood there, surveying the two arrivals to his home. His fading blond hair was slicked back and, if Sean had to guess, his suit and shoes were both Italian of the highest quality. "So Charles Xavier himself couldn't be bothered to come?"

Sean stepped forward, "He's seeing to other aspects of school business." He extended his hand, "I'm Sean Cassidy, this is Doctor Henry McCoy."

Mr. Worthington shook the offered hand after a moment's consideration, "If he sends a student he must be convinced of my answer already." The frown that settled on the man's features did not bode well.

"I am a scientific doctor with a graduate degree," Hank said, also offering his hand. "Hardly a student. However, Sean came along to attempt to reassure your son as much as anything, if you allow us to meet with him. After all, leaving home for someplace else is always scary, it's good to know a friendly face or two."

The older Worthington shook Henry's hand, "You seem awfully young to have a graduate degree."

"Yes," Hank said, nodding. "A bit young. I graduated Harvard at fifteen."

His brows rose, "I see." He glanced out of the parlor door, instructing a servant to go and fetch his son. "Now, I spoke with your professor, but I am curious as to how much he's told you about Warren's...situation."

Hank glanced at Sean. "He has wings I believe?"

Mr. Worthington nodded, "So you have been told."

Sean nodded, "We have. Which is why we think that Xavier's is an excellent fit for your son, sir. The Professor is adept at helping people know how to deal with things the world perceives as different. There is space for him to be able to stretch those wings without being seen as well."

"Is there a possibility of them being—"

The redhead cut him off, an edge to his voice, "No. His wings are not something to be cured. They are a part of him and I am sure they offer him more freedom than people could possibly imagine."

Hank glanced over at Sean again. "The possibility is very small. And it would be more damaging than helpful, sir."

The elder Worthington frowned at that.

Sean drew a calming breath and tried a different tack, "Sir, it would be like losing a limb, I imagine. They're part of his body. Part of who he is. The trauma of a lost wing would not be unlike a lost leg."

He finally nodded, "Very well. Warren's things are already packed. He should be down any moment."

Hank's eyes widened at that. "Yes, thank you sir."

He nodded briskly, turning on his heel to leave.

Sean's jaw tensed, but he didn't say anything to stop the man.

Hank turned back to him. "Well... I suppose that worked."

"Yeah. Next question is if he even bothers to say good-bye to his son. My bet? No."

Hank shook his head. "Charming."

"I guess we wait for him then…"

Hank nodded, sitting back down and looking around the room.

After a while, the door finally opened again and a boy in a large coat entered, looking the pair over, trying to be arrogant and looking nervous instead.

Sean offered him a grin, turning from where he'd been looking at that family photograph again, "Hey, I'm Sean. You're Warren, right?"

"Yes," he said, tilting his chin back slightly. "Are you from the school?"

"Yes," Hank said, stepping forward. "Dr. Henry McCoy."

Banshee's gaze flickered over Warren, "Do you...that is...may we see?"

The blond teenager stared at him for a moment. "Now?" he asked, voice a bit weaker than it was a moment ago.

"Well, not if you don't want to."

"You've already been accepted to the school," Hank said softly. "You may wait until we're there if you like."

"This school," Warren said softly. "What's it like? Why would you come looking for me for it anyway? And surely the teachers aren't all so... young and puny."

"I tend to be less... puny than I look," Hank replied. "But, at this point... yes, the school is small and just getting started. But we think you'd make a fantastic addition."

"Can it help me?"

"Yes," he replied, glancing at Sean. "But probably not in the ways you're imagining."

Sean managed not to respond sharply, nodding slightly, "I'm not a teacher. I'm still a student. Professor Xavier thought it would be a good idea for me to come."

"Why?" Warren asked, turning his attention back to him.

"Well...Currently I'm the only other actual student. Or will be soon. Alex finishes in June. I'm also...well, let's just say I like the freedom flying gives me, even if most of what I do is actually gliding."

The blond boy blinked at him for a long moment. "You... fly?"

Hank stepped back, glancing over a bookshelf, letting them talk.

Sean nodded, "Sort of. As long as my voice holds out, which I've found it does longer than most peoples'."

"How do you fly off your voice?" Warren asked, frowning, but looking more animated than he had when he first entered.

"Well, it's not the only thing I do with my voice. Hank here actually designed a special suit that functions as wings to catch the bent sound waves. Like I said, it's more like gliding."

"And..." Warren looked between the two. "People are allowed to fly there?"

"People are encouraged to fly there." Sean grinned, his mind flickering back a bit, "Sometimes a bit forcefully...but that won't happen this time around."

Warren arched his brow and Hank let his head fall into his palm. "Yes, that won't happen again," Hank agreed.

Sean looked at Warren's expression before explaining, "One of our original instructors pushed me off a satellite dish to make me learn to fly. He's not there anymore."

Warren's eyes widened. "Is it safe there?"

"Actually, for the most part... yes," Hank said. "And he's not a teacher there anymore, though he is seen from time to time. Don't worry about it. Safety is one of our top priorities."

Sean tilted his head on one side, "Have you flown before?"

Warren shifted and looked around, as if expecting his father to hear. "Sometimes. At night mostly."

"Then we'll definitely be starting you on the ground."

Warren paused and nodded at that. "Are we leaving then?"

"If you're ready? We've got the car out front."

The blond paused, looked between them and nodded. "If your car can fit all my bags."

"Sure it can," naïve Hank replied.

Sean glanced at Hank, having a slightly better guess at what they'd be dealing with. "We'll get what we can into it, you'd be surprised at how good I am at packing cars, and someone can come back for the others if we need to do so."

Hank glanced at him in confusion and Warren nodded.

"You going to be alright, riding in the back seat with some bags, Warren? Hank's a bit big for the backseat and I've got to drive."

Warren looked Hank over. "He's tiny."

"You'd be surprised," Hank replied.

"Trust me, he will not fit in the backseat." Sean said again, before motioning to the hall, "Shall we?"

Warren gave them both another look and nodded, turning on his heel and striding out, the other two following.

Sean's brow rose when he saw a good number of bags already waiting in the hall. He hadn't heard anyone bringing them down and he felt his anger brimming.

Hank tilted his head, surveying the bags and Sean. "You alright?" he asked softly, Warren already talking to one of the servants.

"Yeah, I just don't like seeing this is all." He slipped out of the front door going and getting the car open.

"Do you need any help with the bags?" Hank asked and when Warren nodded, he hefted up several.

Sean came back in and picked up a couple of them, "Set them down by the trunk, I'll see what I can get in the car."

X-X-X

Alex sat on the front steps, elbows resting on his knees. He glanced up as Charles rolled out of the mansion. The car pulled up the drive, coming to a stop in front of the entrance. Alex was on his feet and down the stairs almost before Sean could shut it off.

Hank got out of the car first, opening the door for Warren and glancing up as he noticed Alex approaching.

Alex offered Hank a bit of a grin as Sean got out, going to open the trunk.

Sean glanced at him, "Oh, good, Alex. Gimme a hand here?"

The blond rolled his eyes, but nodded, going to help Sean with the bags in the trunk. They'd deal with the ones stacked on the driver's side of the back seat after getting the trunk emptied.

Hesitantly, Warren finally got out of the car, and glanced around the mansion. "It seems a little small," he remarked.

Alex blinked at that and looked at Sean, his brows shooting up. Sean rolled his eyes and shrugged.

Charles laughed, "I think you'll find the grounds a good deal more spacious, Warren."

He nodded. "I have rooms I presume?"

"He was less arrogant in his own house," Hank murmured to Alex softly.

"Great. And guess whose job it's going to be to show him where his room is..." Alex muttered back.

Charles nodded slightly, "Of course. Alex, if you would?"

The blond managed a smile, "Of course, Professor." He picked up a couple of bags.

_Thank you, Alex. He should calm down eventually._

_He better hope so._

Hank blinked and picked up four of the bags. "I'll come with you," he said. Warren seemed to make a huffing sound.

"Well, lead the way then."

Alex rolled his eyes resisting the urge to shove the bags into the boy's hands and walk off, instead turning and slipping into the house past Charles.

"I am sure we can recruit Sean to do a grand tour later," Hank said, following Alex. "He's much better at showing things off than we are. But your basics are, there's the kitchen and dining room, and we usually eat dinner together or about the same time, barring any... circumstances. Your room is up here, on the third story though."

"We're working on getting a lift eventually," Alex continued, "But for now there are the stairs." He finally reached the room and shouldered it open, setting the bags in his hands down.

"I can see why you would need a lift," Warren remarked and looked around the room. "It's rather small."

"We are expecting other students, though you have first pick if you demand another room," Hank managed evenly. Barring, it seemed, Erik's old room, or Charles' old room.

"With a few exceptions. Our rooms, the Professor's rooms and three rooms on the second floor. Feel free to explore, but this is where I'm putting your bags."

Warren gave him a long look and nodded, Hank plastering on a smile.

Alex left the room, meeting Sean with the last few bags on the stairs.

Hank followed Alex quickly. "He's in the room," he told Sean. "Last of the bags?"

The redhead nodded, "Yeah, of the ones we brought."

"I can see why he thought the room was small," Hank sighed.

Alex shook his head in disbelief, "God, he's going to be fun isn't he?"

"Oh, a joy," Hank agreed. "Though I'm not sure how much is his fault... breeding and all that."

"Look where the Prof grew up." Alex motioned around.

"Yes, but his powers give him a massive dose of empathy I think Warren's father forgot to instill in him," Hank shrugged. "God, I feel tired... it wasn't even that long of a drive."

"Sean, can you handle his royal highness?"

The redhead nodded, "Yeah. Go on."

Hank smiled at him and headed down to the kitchen. Alex followed Hank, leaving Sean to deal with Warren.

Hank glanced over at him, pulling out the makings of a snack. "And how is your day?"

"Fine. Long, the professor hasn't had anything else to concentrate on, so we've been working on my control between his work with Cerebro."

"Any luck with either of those?" Hank asked. "Here, eat something."

"Thanks." He took the food, shrugging, "He may have picked up another one or two, but he's having trouble reaching them. As to control, it's the same as always."

Hank nodded. "Well, it's not getting worse, so there's something. It takes more than a little time."

"Yeah, guess so. Just feels like I've been at it for a long time and I really should be seeing some improvement."

Hank reached out to cup Alex's cheek, the feel of his actual hand clashing with the image inducer. "You're doing fine."

"Right. I haven't almost blown you up in a couple of months."

"Alex..."

He sighed, "Sorry..."

"It's nothing to be sorry for," Hank sighed. "And you're doing fine. Really."

Alex dropped his gaze before grimacing, "You're still hiding, Hank."

"I...? Oh, yes, right, well... I don't know. I don't really want to shock someone new so quickly and..."

"He's not down here right now."

"I... he could get hungry," Hank protested softly. "I just don't know."

"Hank, please? Even if we go down to the bunker or the lab. I just don't like to see you hiding. You're amazing. Every bit of you."

Hank sighed, and reached down to take the inducer off, leaning over to kiss Alex quickly. Alex leaned up briefly into the kiss, running a hand over the fur he could now see as well as feel.

Hank smiled against the kiss softly, about to pull away when he heard a load throat clearing. Pulling back, he blinked at what appeared to be Warren and Sean in the doorway, Warren having been the one to clear his throat, though he looked a little freaked out.

"Is it me, or is there a big blue cat?" the blond asked, voice strained.

"Oh, yes, hello," Hank said, shuffling back.

"Wait," Warren blinked again. "HANK?" he said, recognizing the voice.

"Told you he wouldn't fit in the back seat," Sean murmured, looking from Hank to Alex and back before shaking his head. He muttered under his breath, "I really need to not be surprised by things like this. I really need to not."

Alex shot them both a glare, "Is there something you two want?"

"Hey, don't look at me. You're the two who told me I got to give the tour. Hang a sign or something next time."

"I didn't quite realize you were showing up at the kitchen so quickly," Hank squeaked.

"Figured we'd start with where the food was," Sean shrugged.

Hank blinked at him. "I suppose that's practical," he said, fur ruffling slightly as Warren just continued staring at him.

Alex muttered something unkind under his breath as he glared at Warren, "It's rude to stare."

"I just, you, how do you make yourself look normal?" he blurted to Hank who blinked before holding up the inducer.

Alex still wasn't inclined to give the kid lee-way, but kept his mouth shut at a look from Sean. Hank glanced at Alex as well, shaking his head slightly. "It creates an illusion, that's all," he said. "It wouldn't help with the space of your wings, if that's what you're thinking. And, well, it's no cure."

Alex tensed at the word "cure" but again kept his mouth shut, for Hank's sake more than anything this time. Sean spoke quietly, "With your wings though, they seem flexible enough that they can be hidden pretty well..."

Warren looked between them and nodded, hands in his pockets and too large coat still on, despite the warm May weather. "Harness," he admitted softly.

"Well," Hank said, spreading his arms. "If you feel like it, you certainly don't have to hide anymore."

"Not here." Alex agreed, "There's no reason to hide here. This is home, where we can be us."

Warren looked between them. "So what's your power then?" he asked Alex.

Alex shook his head, "Nothing visible."

"So?" Warren asked.

"I shoot energy bolts." He finally admitted.

"Huh," Warren said, arching a brow. "You sound like a cheesy science fiction film."

Alex's eyes narrowed and his hands clenched.

Sean took a look at that and started backing up, "Hey, Warren? Why don't I show you the rest of the first floor?"

Warren arched a brow and nodded, trailing after him.

Hank glanced at Alex. "Considering his age... he may have meant that somewhat as a compliment. Or at least not as an insult."

"Doesn't matter which he meant it as. The thing about sci-fi films? Good guys aren't the destructo-ray."

Hank sighed, rubbing Alex's cheek. "Maybe not. But you still save the day, cheesy science fiction or not."

Alex managed a bit of a smile and leaned into the touch, "Thanks."

"Anytime. And I didn't even have to kiss you to shut you up."

That got a grin, "Nope, but maybe a precautionary one?"

He glanced toward the doorway again. "Not that we'd surprise anyone anymore, but I vote a strategic retreat first."

"To?"

"Bunker, lab, we even have a lovely set of rooms..."

Alex pulled quickly away from the thought of the rooms, "Lab sounds good."

Hank blinked and nodded, picking up the snack he'd been working on, making his way through the wooden paneled hallways. Alex fell into step beside him, walking together.

* * *

><p>Alright folks, finally a new character! Warren is almost an interesting choice since he was used in the third x-men movie, which really means we shouldn't be using him here. However, Angel is usually called Warren Worthington III which means this could be Warren III and the kid in X3 Warren IV, or this is Warren II and the kid Warren III. I can't remember if they mentioned his full name in the film or not. Also, considering Warren's older brother saw this Warren sent off to Xavier's, if he hated his son's wings as much as his father hated his brother's wings, he would probably not want his son anywhere *near* that school after what they did to his brother, which is why Angel from the film had no contact with his uncle, or at least very little, and why kid Warren's dad was so eager for the cure. Thus, we're pretty much using both Warrens. We also think it's possible to give them both the same power, since the same powers tend, at least vaguely to run in families-Scott, Alex, and Gabriel have similar powers after all and they can't actually hurt each other with their different blasts, or at least Scott and Alex can't.<p>

We've also almost reached the end of our buffer for this story so updates may be fewer and farther between. We do promise to continue to update it, they just may be a bit more intermittent.

Cheers all, and thanks for all the continued feedback!


	19. You Distinctly Lack Women Here

_May, 1963_

Erik strode up to the mansion not much later, glancing around as he went, finding Charles out on the patio.

Charles glanced up, offering him a bit of a smile, "Good afternoon, Erik."

"Afternoon," he said, sitting down beside him. "How are you?"

"Doing well. We've got a new student who just arrived today."

Erik blinked at that, pausing for a long moment.

Charles turned his head to look at the other, "Hm?"

Erik shook his head. "So, Cerebro is working?"

"Yes, we got it working earlier this week. I'm still surprised at the connection with that many minds..."

Erik nodded. "It must be amazing for you."

"It is. A bit overwhelming too, but..."

"Can you handle it?"

"Of course I can."

"You have a habit of overdoing yourself," Erik said. "Even if you're adorable doing it."

"I'm being careful, Erik. But...there's so many more than we could have imagined. I know I've said that before, but it's true."

"It's still good to hear," Erik replied.

Charles offered him a smile.

Sean opened the door to the patio, pausing, "Oh, Professor, sorry didn't realize you guys were out here."

Erik glanced up and paused, looking the new student over. "And who are you?" Warren asked, sheer arrogance.

Charles turned his chair, "Warren, I'd like you to meet Erik. He's an old friend of mine. Erik, Warren, my new student."

Erik looked at him for a long moment before nodding. "Always nice to meet a new student," he murmured.

Sean glanced warily at Erik before turning to Warren, "So that concludes the tour of the mansion. We can go over the grounds that I know if you like."

Warren looked between the two older men and back to Sean. "You distinctly lack women here don't you? Besides, why does everyone look so awkward?"

Sean took a moment to try and find an answer to that and shook his head, "Awkward?"

Warren shrugged. "Sure, the grounds sound nice."

"Great!" Sean offered him a smile that was perhaps a bit too wide before leading the way off the patio. He was so decidedly not answering questions that had nothing to do with the tour.

Warren paused, looking the strange older man over again. "What do you do then?" he asked, fully intending to follow Sean in a moment.

Erik arched a brow, floating up any metal objects in the area expect Charles' chair. "Now run along like a good boy," he said and Warren followed Sean.

Charles watched them go, shaking his head slightly, "He's going to take time to adjust."

Erik nodded. "You're good at welcoming people."

"It's so very much...the idea that I am even considering actually setting this place up as a legitimate school..."

"You're the one that could do it though," he said softly.

"It means actually finding a way to legitimately get accreditation to be able to do that."

"You're a professor, are you not?"

"I am. I'm looking into it, it's just taking longer than I would like, I suppose."

Erik nodded, glancing around the view from where they were sitting. "I should... let you finish working on what you were then..."

Charles reached out to stop him, pausing before actually coming in contact with him, "But you just got here."

Erik glanced back at him. "Well, I can stay I just don't want to impose..."

"You're not imposing, really you're not."

Erik sighed softly, lifting Charles' hand and twining their fingers together. "It's been a while."

Charles drew Erik's hand to him, kissing one of the knuckles before tracing the fingers of his other hand over them, "It has. But I suppose we've both been rather busy."

"That's one way of putting it," he said, turning his hand slightly in Charles' grip. "But you've been alright?"

He nodded, "Of course. I've been doing well. You?"

"As well as usual," Erik replied softly. "Things continue much as they have."

"How is Raven doing?"

"Well," he replied softly. "I think she's settling in better than I am."

Charles sighed, "I see."

"Do you now?" Erik hummed.

"Somewhat."

Erik paused and nodded, leaning back further against the lawn chair he was sitting in, looking Charles over. "How has it been going with your legs?

"I expect to try standing without the braces sometime next week. It's just retraining them again mostly now."

Erik blinked and nodded. "Good."

"I could viably be walking within the next couple of months."

The German took a deep breath and let it out again. "I'm very glad."

Charles offered him a gentle smile, "When will you be able to come again? Have you any idea?"

"I..." he paused and shook his head. "I hope soon."

"I hope so as well. I miss you Erik."

Erik turned the hand that was still in Charles' grip to squeeze Charles' hand. "As do I," he said and sighed. "We work with what we have though."

"We do...I do wish it was a bit more to work with though. I suppose that's rather selfish of me."

"You're allowed to be selfish," Erik sighed. "I am well enough."

Charles smiled faintly, resting one of his hands on Erik's cheek.

Tilting his head into the touch, Erik returned the smile. "I miss you."

"And I you. I love you, Erik."

"I know," he said and sighed. "I suppose it's just hard to see new students, though it shouldn't be."

The professor looked at him a bit confused, "I..."

"I left, I know," he said. "But surely you remember us searching the country for recruits? Come now."

"O-oh. Right. I can hardly forget that."

"I would certainly hope not," Erik said with a small smile.

"I...hadn't even thought."

Erik shook his head. "I'll certainly survive. It's just a shock to the system."

"Admittedly, most of my seeking is done from my office with a phone these days."

Erik reached forward to run a hand over Charles' hair. "A lot's changed."

The telepath leaned into the touch, "It has indeed."

"I still love you."

"And I you."

Erik let out another breath, gently stroking Charles' cheek. "We really are something..."

He sighed, "We do what we can."

"We do," Erik agreed, looking from Charles over the grounds again. "How long do you want me to stay, with your new student here?'

"I...should probably go see to him..."

"Do you want me to wait or leave you to it?" Erik asked, tilting his head.

"I...if you can I'd like you to wait?"

He shrugged, leaning back. "A moment of relaxation might do me well."

Charles offered him a smile before rolling away, heading toward where Sean and Warren had gone.

Erik watched him go, sighing before retreating to Charles' room, flipping through whichever book was on the other man's bedside table and not thinking about what he could be doing. The level of trust Charles displayed by all but leaving him alone staggered him, so he was trying not to think about it.

Charles finally got to where he could see Warren and Sean coming along the path back toward the house.

After leaving the professor and Erik to themselves, Sean took Warren toward one of the loop paths.

Warren looked around, eying the grounds. "So... how much land is on this estate anyway?"

"Well, it goes from the road to the lake and circles most of the lake..."

Warren blinked. "You don't actually know how large it is, do you? Ah well, I suppose you don't have to be specific in whatever it is you do."

Sean frowned a bit at that, "You know when we passed that road coming here on the right before coming to the driveway? The one that's a couple miles back?"

"Yeah?"

"That's the border of the property on that side."

Another blink, Warren absorbing that. He would have preferred the square miles or acres, to better compare with his father's estate, but he supposed the physical representation would have to do. "So, there's plenty of land then."

"Yeah. As far as I can tell, the mansion's at the center, but I'm not sure about that. The professor has some maps somewhere."

Warren nodded. "I might like to see those."

"Well, you'd have to talk to him about those then."

The blond nodded again, looking around. "The grounds are... rather beautiful," he admitted finally.

"I like 'em. There's so much space here it's kinda nice."

He nodded. "I can see why it would be useful," he said, shifting his back slightly.

"You could take the harness off, if you like."

Warren looked over at him, and shifted from foot to foot. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Well, if you cover your ears I can sort of show you mine. Isn't much glass around here, but still."

Warren arched a brow and shrugged, covering his ears.

Sean looked for something that he could use for a demonstration and finally located an old shed nearby. He drew a deep breath and shattered the glass in the window with his shriek.

The blond's eyebrows shot right up at that, and he slowly lowered his hands. "So, your voice can shatter glass? And let you fly?"

He nodded, "Yeah, with the right application of the sound waves I can glide, but I have to get a glider at this point. Maybe someday I'll be able to deal without it, but I doubt it."

Again, the blond nodded and paused for a long moment before he shrugged out of the long black coat he was still wearing, the harness becoming obvious. He paused again before finally unbuckling it, letting his wings finally free.

Sean's eyes widened, "Wow. Those are amazing."

Warren blushed, shifting, his wings shaking themselves out after being confined for so long. "You think so?"

"Yeah, I mean, like I said, I can glide, but that...That's astonishing."

Warren grinned at that. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. So how much have you gone flying?"

One of his wings flickered out again. "Well... my father didn't really approve of it so, I would have to go out at night if I did. Usually during the full moons."

"Hm, well there's a few too many trees to start anything here...but if you like there's space nearer the house."

"You want me to just... fly? In the daylight?"

"No. Just stretch your wings a bit."

Warren folded his wings closer to his body, rather than leaving them at their full span.

Sean shrugged, "You don't have to, but that is one thing about here—we're here to learn regular stuff of course but we're also here to learn our gifts."

"I... I can see about stretching them," he said finally.

"Shall we start back?"

"Sure," Warren said, picking up the harness and just holding it rather than putting it back on.

Sean turned and started back toward the mansion.

Warren followed, still looking around the grounds, and pausing when he saw Charles coming up the pathway.

Charles stopped at a distance, offering them a smile, "Good afternoon, you two."

"Afternoon," Warren murmured, shifting and regretting leaving his wings free.

Charles' blue eyes flickered to the wings, but returned to Warren's face, "So, has Sean given you a satisfactory tour?"

The blond nodded. "Yes. Do you know how large your grounds are?"

The telepath considered, "Do you mean including the private sector of the lake, or just the actual grounds?"

"Either?" Warren offered. "It just seems you have rather vast grounds."

"I'm not entirely certain I could state either with any accuracy. They are rather vast. The tended section of the estate covers several acres, but the woods surrounding us belong, mostly, to the estate as well."

"They're rather large," Warren repeated, slightly awed. The house might have been smaller than his fathers, but the estate seemed to make up for that.

"They are at that. Rather easy to get lost in I fear. But you're free to explore them as you like."

One of his wings flickered again. "Alright. Thank you."

"Of course. If there's anything you need, let me or one of the others know."

Warren managed not to ask for a bigger room, rather just nodding.

Charles smiled slightly at that, catching the thought, but deciding perhaps now was not the time to answer that out loud.

"Thank you, sir," Warren said, unsure how to really react around the man with the wheelchair. Respect, certainly, but he hardly reminded him of his father.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Sean?"

He considered how to mention this, knowing parts of the mansion like he did, "Well, I was thinking, if it's okay with Warren of course, that maybe a corner room would be better than one midway down the hall? It would give two walls with possible windows, and I think there's a balcony with the one in the rear?"

Charles smiled, nodding, "I think that's certainly possible."

Warren blinked over at Sean and offered him a smile. "I would like that."

Sean grinned slightly, "Great, well, we can see about doing that then."

Warren nodded and paused when they reached an area with more room, letting his wings stretch to their full reach, testing their width for the first time in broad daylight since he first grew them.

Sean grinned, glancing at the professor who wore a soft smile as well.

* * *

><p>Hope you all are enjoying this. We offer you a promise that the next chapter's going to be longer and that the ride's going to start reaching a little bit of turbulence soon. Thank you all for the wonderful response!<p> 


	20. You're Always Looking For Threats

_June, 1963_

Charles looked up from the papers he was going over in the mid-June sunlight that lanced through the front parlor windows. The knock he'd heard on the front door had been sharp, insistent. He frowned and turned his chair to head in that direction, pausing when he heard Alex answer the door. The voice which responded to the younger man was feminine and famili—Moira. Damn it she wasn't supposed to know how to get here. He plastered on a smile, an air of genuine pleasure carefully structured around him as he came into the entry, "Moira, what a pleasant surprise."

The CIA agent offered him a bit of a smile, "Hello, Charles. I'm afraid this isn't a social call."

He sighed, disappointment flickering across his features, "I'm sorry to hear that, won't you please come into the parlor? We can talk privately there."

She glanced at Alex who had backed up when his professor arrived, "If you're sure?"

"Of course. Alex, go let Hank know we have a guest, please."

The blond nodded and quickly retreated as Moira followed Charles into the parlor.

"Now then," he spoke, once she'd settled on the couch, "What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for Magneto."

He blinked, "And you think I know where he is?"

"Well, if you don't, surely you can find him."

Erik made his way toward the mansion, glancing at the car in the driveway and stopping slightly, sending his thoughts out toward Charles.

Charles managed not to flinch as he recognized the touch on his mind, reaching out to Alex, Sean and Hank, _Would you please make certain Erik stays out of sight. Warren needs to not be seen and Hank needs his image inducer. Now._ He shook his head, "No, I'm afraid I can't. I haven't the ability to do so."

"Surely you've built a new Cerebro?"

He blinked at her for a long moment, "What use would it be?"

.-.

Erik caught the edge of the orders on his awareness, and blinked slightly when a very human looking Hank jerked the door open and ushered him quickly upstairs to his old room, stopping by Warren's to kindly ask him to stay inside.

.-.

"Well, with your power, Charles."

"Oh, right. My power." He sighed, his expression long-suffering, "I'm afraid I don't have it."

The agent looked taken aback, "Come again?"

.-.

Erik looked Hank up and down, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "You look different."

"Image inducer," Hank replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

.-.

"My power. I've lost it, I'm a bit at sea without it, I admit. It was a side-effect of one of the treatments I tried to restore the use of my legs." Charles answered Moira, turning his full concentration on her now that he knew his instructions had been carried out.

She gaped at him, "Oh, Charles..."

He offered her a faint smile, careful to add just enough resignation to his expression, "Well, it is what it is I suppose. But no, I've not seen Magneto."

"What is Havok doing here, if I may?"

"Well, I've been working closely with Hank, actually he helped a great deal with my chair, and Alex and Sean have stayed on here to help me as well as to let me keep an eye on their powers and the fact that they're not going rogue as you might say."

.-.

Hank and Erik meanwhile were staring at each other. "You don't have to guard me," Erik remarked and Hank shrugged. Erik's mouth twisted slightly. "Do you at least know who's here?" Erik asked finally and Hank shook his head.

"Not sure, but I figure it's best to do as the Professor asks."

"Probably," Erik agreed.

.-.

"I have to tell my superiors you're here, Charles."

"...I know. While you're at it though, you might put in a good word with the department in charge of education?"

"What?"

"Well, I've these immense grounds and this exorbitantly large house. I was thinking of opening it as a school for students who might not get the right education otherwise. We'd of course deal with the normal subjects, and add in things like shop and such—things with practical application. A school for...gifted youngsters. Troubled might be a word others would use."

She considered, "Are you in contact with other mutants, Charles?"

"Only Alex and Sean. And Hank, but he's hardly a threat."

"How did you know I was thinking threat?"

"Moira, my dear," he shrugged slightly, "I hate to sound paranoid, but you're a government official, you're always looking for threats."

"I..." She smiled, "I suppose that's true. Well," She rose, "you will let me know if you encounter Magneto, won't you?"

"Of course, Moira," he paused, putting a mental order behind his next words, "And you'll call ahead before you drop by, of course? After all, I do rather prefer to have something to offer my guests, and I'm afraid unexpected arrivals make that a bit difficult."

Moira offered him another bright smile, "Of course, I'll be sure to call. Take care, Charles. I'm sorry to hear about your power."

"So was I. Take care." He watched her go, waiting until he felt her presence leave the estate grounds before closing his eyes, _It's clear._

Erik glanced at Hank before rising. _You sure?_

_Yes, I'm certain._

Hank turned off the image inducer before following Erik down the stairs. "Who was it?" Hank asked.

"Hm?" Charles glanced up, "Oh...Moira."

"What?" Erik asked, voice lowering hard from behind Hank.

"Oh do calm down, Erik. Give me a moment and then you may be as irate as you please." Charles' tone was clipped, almost irritable.

"A moment?" Erik asked, forcibly reining his anger in. "For?"

"To calm my mind, I always forget how much that takes out of me."

Erik crossed his arms and waited, patiently trying to focus on his breathing, though a small metal paperweight twisted slightly on the table.

Charles scowled very slightly at him at that, but finally took a breath, "Alright, say it."

"Say what?" Erik managed, still keeping his voice even.

"Whatever it is that's on the tip of your tongue. You obviously reacted to it being Moira, you may as well finish the thought."

"I don't like her," Erik all but growled, still standing by the door, arms crossed.

"Of that I am well aware. Believe me, I was _not_ expecting to see her again."

"Then why did she show up again?" he asked.

"From what I could gather? She was in the area, she's been all over New England and finally made it to this corner. My family's owned this estate for just about 300 years. She's looking for you."

Erik's eyes narrowed further. "She what? And what happened to her anyway, after that day?"

"Well, apparently she returned to the CIA and they didn't fire her. She wasn't ever supposed to come back here. She wasn't supposed to recall it at all, apparently that didn't work. I should have made the blocks stronger I suppose." He shook his head, his tone remaining detached and clinical, "It isn't as though I had much time in which to do so."

Both Erik and Hank's brows went up at that. "Oh," Hank said, blinking and Erik looked honestly surprised.

Charles realized how much he'd actually admitted to, but didn't show any outward reaction to that, "Well...regardless, we'll have warning before she arrives again, should she choose to."

Hank managed not to ask how and Erik was still looking surprised. "You wiped her memories?"

He nodded very slightly, "From the time of leaving the base until she woke up in her own bed after departing here the last time."

Erik shook his head, awed slightly. "Oh."

One brow arched as Charles glanced at him, "Oh?"

"I just didn't expect you to do something like that," Erik said with a shrug. "And I don't actually mean that as an insult."

Hank glanced between them and headed for the door.

The telepath's gaze flickered to where Hank was leaving, but he didn't stop him, "There are precautions that must be taken. That was one of them."

Erik's eyes followed Hank as well and he nodded, coming around to finally sit down.

"Hopefully she'll stay away for a time, either way."

Another nod from the German. "How... you seemed to like her well enough. Were you alright with...?"

"She was a nice enough young woman, and she was incredibly useful, but when it came down to it, she wasn't someone I could trust."

Erik stared at him a long moment. "But you trust me?"

"Yes, Erik. I do. Inexplicably sometimes, but I do."

Erik rose at that, and leaned down to cup Charles' face between his hands. "I don't understand you."

The telepath blinked at him in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"I really don't understand you," Erik repeated. "But I love you."

"And I you." He still looked confused, but decided to leave that alone for the time being.

Erik shook his head again, in almost baffled wonder.

"What?"

Instead of answering him, and repeating himself again, Erik kissed him softly. Charles leaned up into the kiss, his hand moving up to the back of the other man's head to draw him down a bit further. Erik smiled into the kiss, shifting down so he was kneeling in front of Charles rather than looming over him. The telepath followed the motion, his fingers curling in Erik's hair.

After a while, Erik finally pulled away, resting their forehead's together. "I don't know what to do with you."

"You seem to be doing just fine so far, figuring out an answer to that question."

"Oh, you mean seducing you?"

Charles' lips curled into a bit of a smile, "If that's how you want to term it."

"And how would you?" Erik asked, almost teasing.

"I would count it as mutual seduction in which both of us are happy to be seduced."

Erik laughed softly at that, his mood obviously mellowing from earlier. "Works for me."

"Now, what did you mean about not knowing what to do with me?"

"I mean you're a marvelous miracle that I don't understand," Erik shrugged.

Charles' brow arched, "That's rather an exaggeration."

"Not to me," Erik replied.

"Well, then I suppose I'll grant it to you."

"How gracious of you," Erik said.

Charles laughed lightly, "Well, I still think you're rather exaggerating, but..."

In reply, Erik leaned up to kiss him again.

X-X-X

Alex tapped on the door to the lab before opening it and peeking in, "Hank?"

Hank looked up from the microscope. "Oh, Alex. Yes?" His eyes flickered over to the clock and he frowned. "Oh."

Setting the plate he was carrying down nearby, Alex perched on the lab table, "What's wrong?"

Hank watched him seat himself on the table, raising his brow slightly. "Did you see who stopped by today?"

"Yeah, I let her in."

"Did you... ever wonder about why we never saw her again really after Charles got out of the hospital?"

He shrugged, "maybe a little?"

Hank looked down, unsure whether it was his place to say what the Professor had done. But the betrayal of it, and the sudden fear that the Professor could do the same to any of them if he really wished it was twisting up in his gut, and his ears which were placed closer to the top of his head since the transformation flickered back before all but flattening into the longer hair there.

Alex looked him over before sliding off the lab table, "Hank?"

"Yeah?"

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not, I mean, it's..." Hank shook his head, noticing finally that something felt off.

"It's...?"

"Well, I'm not sure it's my place to really," he started and reached out, intending just to run a hand through his headfur in frustration but pausing, feeling around. "Wait, my ears... oh, there they are. Did my ears just flatten?"

Alex grinned very slightly, "Sure looks like it..."

"I seem to be discovering that I'm more catlike every day," he remarked and shook his head slightly. "I..."

"Now, what is it?"

"It... seems that the Professor wiped parts of Moira's memory," Hank said softly.

Alex blinked at him for a long moment, paling, "What?"

"It seems he wiped parts of her memory," Hank repeated, looking down. "I don't know what to do."

"I-I didn't know he could do something like that..."

"Well, apparently he can. And... God," Hank shook his head. "I trust him. At least, I think I do. But that's terrifying."

Alex nodded slightly, "If he...I mean...that..."

Hank nodded once.

Alex moved over and wrapped his arms around Hank from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder, "Guess I'm glad it's us that knows..."

The larger shifted back slightly, tilting his head. "You are?"

"Well, I mean Sean might handle it, but the new kid's still adjusting to everything... wouldn't that be the icing on the cake for him."

"It's the icing on my cake," Hank muttered.

Alex sighed, "Yeah, but we...mostly... know that the professor wouldn't do that without a majorly good reason, right?"

"Right," Hank agreed softly. "A very good reason."

"So, it's not like he'd do it again, right?"

"I hope to God not."

"Well, we'll...we'll figure he won't. There's...I mean there's no reason for him to."

Hank still looked less sure, adjusting his spectacles and nodded. "Yeah. Of course."

Alex sighed, resting his forehead against Hank's shoulder blade, "God..."

At that, Hank shifted around, so he could embrace Alex back.

Alex shivered slightly, burying his face in Hank's fur, "God...Are you alright?"

Hank smoothed a large hand up and down Alex's back. "I don't know. I suppose so. Are you?"

"I will be. How are we ever supposed to look at him again?"

"I suspect we'll have to do it the way we always do," Hank replied, voice faint. "And leave that for tomorrow at the earliest. Could even go into town tomorrow and put it off longer."

"That...sounds like a good plan to me."

"Oh good," Hank murmured.

"I can't believe he did that..."

"I know," Hank said softly, resting their foreheads together. "It... God, I understand it, because we're in so much danger but... There must have been other ways."

Alex swallowed, "It's not right, Hank. That's somebody's _mind_."

"I know. Exactly." Hank shook his head. "God."

"We...what are we going to do?"

"I vote for my original plan of vacating tomorrow. Hopefully we can figure it out from there."

"A-alright."

"I'm going to be very naïve and hopeful. Sound alright with you?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I think it sounds good."

Hank sighed softly, reaching up to run his hand along Alex's cheek. Alex leaned into the touch, his hand moving to comb through Hank's fur. Hesitating a second, Hank leaned in to kiss him softly. The smaller man leaned gently into the kiss, leaving it to the other to lead. After a moment, the larger drew back slightly.

Alex blinked slightly at that, "Hm?"

"It's just..." he shrugged slightly, "the world's feeling all off kilter."

"Yeah...it really is. Anything specific, other than the Prof?"

"Mostly that... sometimes you."

"Me?" He looked at the other uncertainly, "What do you mean?"

"I meant that as kindly as possible," Hank said with a faint smile. "But you make my head go fuzzy sometimes, and I lose concentration but, I usually don't mind very much at all."

Alex offered him a bit of a relieved smile at that, "Oh. I..."

Hank paused, figuring they were both a little too off balance for whatever else he wanted to say.

Alex gently reached out, gently tracing his thumb over Hank's cheekbone. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"Me?" Hank protested slightly.

"Yes. You." The blond smiled a bit, "You're gorgeous, you've got the smartest brain of anyone I think I've ever met, and you care so much."

"I, you, you're exaggerating..."

"No I'm not."

Hank swallowed, looking like he wished he could still blush. "Oh."

Alex leaned in to kiss him tenderly. Shifting, Hank leaned into the kiss, hands coming down to Alex's hips. Alex's arms moved to circle Hank's neck as he pressed up into the kiss. Pulling him a bit closer, a very small purr rumbled from Hank's chest, enjoying the feeling. One of Havok's hands moved down to rest on Hank's chest, tracing small circles there. Hank smiled into the kiss, tugging him just a little closer.

Alex stiffened slightly, pulling back a bit, "I..."

Hank blinked his eyes back open. "Huh?"

"I'm sorry. I..." His hands moved to rest on Hank's wrists, pulling slightly to get him to either move his hands or let go.

Which Hank refused to do. "Alex..."

He swallowed, "Y-yeah?"

"Breathe. You're alright."

He drew a deep breath, nodding, "I know..."

"Then why do you always pull away from me so hard?"

"I-I don't want to hurt you, Hank."

"You aren't going to."

"You don't know that!"

"I trust that you're not," Hank replied, voice still calm.

Alex shook his head, "It's what I do. I hurt people. Damn it, Hank, I nearly lit you up on Valentine's Day and all we were doing was kissing!"

Hank sighed softly. "That was several months ago..."

"And my control isn't all the much better now than it was then!"

"You're still working on it," Hank said softly. "Yes, it's a problem. But it's sort of my job to figure out solutions to problems, isn't it?"

"I-I..." Alex started to draw back a bit further, "I guess, I just...I can't."

"Can't what?" Hank asked softly.

"I can't figure out how to control it. I can't risk hurting you."

"_We'll_ figure something out then," Hank said, still holding him close.

Alex shuddered, still pushing away a bit, but starting to calm a little, "We...I..." He nodded, his face buried against Hank's chest.

Running a hand up and down his back, Hank forced a purr from his chest. "We'll figure it out," he repeated. "Eventually. I'm supposed to be able to figure out anything, right?"

"Y-yeah. If-if anyone can figure it out, it would be you."

"Good," Hank said, voice soothing. "Then we'll be alright."

Alex drew a shaky breath, but nodded again.

X-X-X

Sean dealt another hand of cards, sitting cross-legged on the parlor floor a few days later, his back against one of the chairs. Alex picked up his cards and grimaced at them, "Okay, you're not allowed to deal anymore." Havok glanced at Warren, "So, how are you settling in?"

"Good," Warren replied, staring at his own cards, frowning slightly. "It's a bit different here. There's more freedom but... I think we need more girls."

Hank glanced up from where he was sitting at the side table with a book, an eyebrow arched.

Sean nodded his agreement, "I've been saying that too."

Alex grinned a bit, glancing at Sean, "Not that you could get a date with any of them anyhow."

The redhead slugged his arm, "Shut up, Alex."

"Why wouldn't he?" Warren asked, fiddling with his cards.

"Well, let's just say the last person you should take dating advice from is Sean Cassidy."

"Shut _up_, Alex." Sean scowled a bit at him.

"Oh, come on. The kid deserves to know."

"What happened to hard knocks?" Banshee protested.

"Sadism won out." Alex grinned in response.

Hank arched a brow at that. "See, I knew you had that streak. What happened now?"

"Well, rumor has it he was trying to get a date when they recruited him." Alex grinned, wincing as Sean kicked him.

"I almost had one too."

"Riiiight. I hear it was a really bad pick-up line and you got shut down just as much as you deserved."

"I didn't get shut down."

"'I'd rather date the fish'? What do you call that?" Havok's grin widened.

"Wait," Hank said and Warren giggled. "You were recruited to the cause trying to pick up dates? How did fishes come into this again?"

"No. And they didn't," Sean scowled at Alex, though the fact that his face had turned bright red put a lie to his words.

"Really? That's not what I heard..." Alex dodged another kick, "You were at an aquarium trying to get a date with some girl and she told you she'd rather date the fish, right? After you said something about both of you liking fish? I think I've got it straight? She walked off didn't she?"

"You know what, Alex?" Sean muttered, tossing a decorative pillow at him, "Shut up."

"Why have I never heard of this before?" Hank asked and Warren just laughed.

"Well, he has to be pretty drunk to admit to it," Alex's expression turned sheepish.

Warren laughed harder and Hank paused. "Come again?"

"Well, you remember that bottle of alcohol the Professor was looking for back in April? And how I ended up washing and then waxing the ballroom floor for like a week and a half?"

"Yes I do recall," Hank started and understanding finally entered. "Alex!"

It was Sean's turn to grin as Alex glanced at Hank a bit sheepishly, "Yeah?"

"You didn't!" Hank said, though he very well knew he did.

"Nice place you guys have here," Warren finally managed past the giggles.

"Me? I did nothing!" Alex replied.

Sean glanced at Warren, the embarrassed blush still clearly visible thanks to his complexion, "When Alex isn't messing with my day-to-day secrets, yeah."

"Oh I think you did something," Hank said, shaking his head, though affection was entering his voice again.

"Well, it's not much of a secret," Warren informed Sean.

"I was absolved," Havok protested, though his grin was returning.

"I happened to like my reputation at least partially intact," Sean retorted.

"You were punished, not necessarily absolved," Hank replied.

"You have a reputation?" Warren asked innocently.

"Close enough. I paid for whatever it is I supposedly did."

Sean looked at him for a long moment, "I liked to delude myself that I actually had a reputation that didn't include me being shot down in favor of a fish."

Alex grinned again, "Didn't you mention it was a clown fish?"

"Shut _up_, Alex." Sean could feel his eartips burning again.

That set Warren off on another round of laughter, and Hank smiled faintly at the group, trying not to think about other secrets.

Sean kicked Alex, "So, are we playing cards or not?"

"Are we?" Warren asked, having caught his breath again. "So long as you're not dealing. We could play go fish..."

Sean just shot him a look, but that set Alex to laughing, "I've already dealt. You get to play the hand you've got."

"You're never allowed to deal again," Warren said. "Actually I think a change of game would be a good plan..."

"Anything but go fish." Sean replied.

"You're just bitter," Warren replied sweetly.

"Right..." Banshee nodded.

Alex thought for a minute, "Hey, Sean. I gotta ask, do you usually try to pick up girls at aquariums? You spent Valentine's Day there didn't you?"

"What I did for Valentine's Day is none of your business, Alex."

"No, I want to hear this," Hank said.

"Hank...I thought you were on my side, with your silence!" Sean protested.

Warren snickered and Hank grinned. "Sorry. I was just laying in wait for the opportune moment."

"Fine, no. I don't. I just had to tell the Professor I was going someplace, and that was what came to mind."

"So where did you go?" Hank inquired.

"Ended up at the mall."

"You spent Valentine's Day at the mall." Alex's tone was flat as he tried to figure out how to react to that.

"No. I spent the day in which those of us who aren't seeing someone are reminded how wonderful it is to be single at the mall watching people scramble to find a last-minute Valentine's gift. I have my own sadistic pleasures after all."

"Isn't that masochism?" Warren asked.

"No. I wasn't being sarcastic. It was kinda funny watching some guys bolt in at five til six after realizing they forgot to get their gals a gift of any sort."

Warren rolled his eyes and Hank glanced over at Alex, realizing he hadn't actually gotten the other a gift beside lectures on constellations. Alex's brows rose at that, "Seriously? Gifts are overrated if you've got someone to spend the evening with in the first place. That's a gift in itself."

Sean blinked at him, "When did you grow an inclination to be sappy?"

Hank coughed suddenly into his hand, half in surprise and half to cover up a laugh. Alex shrugged and they all turned back to the game.

* * *

><p>Hello all! A chapter in celebration of the fact that X-Men: First Class is now out on DVD and Blu-Ray! Hope you all enjoyed it, feedback makes your authors' long days brighter.<p> 


	21. It Would Have Been Very Bright

_July 4, 1963_

Hank made his way down the stairs. "Professor, where we still planning on going to the fireworks in town?"

Charles looked up from the paperwork he was going over, "Yes, that was the plan, Hank. And still is, unless something's come up?"

"Not at all, I was just asking. Especially since I think I saw Erik approaching."

The telepath blinked in surprise that he hadn't noticed the approach, "Really?" He reached out with his mind, locating the familiar touch, _Erik?_

The familiar mind reached back out. _Charles. I was planning a surprise you know._

_Well, then you might have done better approaching from a direction that the students wouldn't have seen you._

_I was too concerned about your mind_ he replied, thoughts affectionate. _But no matter._

Charles laughed quietly, _I'm in the my study._

Erik sent another fond thought, before he entered the house, making his way to the study.

The telepath offered him a smile as he entered, "It's good to see you."

"As always, the same," Erik replied, glancing around the study.

"What brings you by today?" He set his pen aside, he'd finish the paperwork later.

The German shrugged. "I heard you were a fan of fireworks. My team decides to celebrate any holiday by drinking the night away, I'd worry for their livers if I gave a damn, so I thought I'd come here instead."

"You heard I was a...Raven tell you then?" He smiled fondly, shaking his head. "We were looking to head into town for the show in a couple of hours. If you'd like to join us."

"I have plenty of time between then," Erik said, taking a seat on the couch. "And she may have mentioned something in passing. Her hints tend not to be subtle."

"For all her power ought to grant her that, subtlety has never been one of Raven's strong suits." Charles wheeled over, carefully moving from his chair to the couch, "How is she doing?"

"Well. I think," he said. "She plays her emotions close to her chest."

"She does at that. How is she doing with the others?"

Erik shrugged. "I believe Azazel likes her, for reasons I don't want to contemplate, and Riptide seems decently alright with everyone. Her and Emma are no longer allowed in the same room."

"Oh dear God...do I want to know what happened between them?" Charles glanced at Erik, one brow arching.

"Nothing particularly horrible," he replied. "But the constant back and forth between them is enough to make anyone separate them."

"Sounds delightful. How are _you_ doing with the others?"

"I delegate," he replied with a shrug. "They seem to have settled well enough around me, except, of course, Emma."

"At least the others have settled. Emma, if she ever comes around, will take a very long time to do so."

"I'm willing to doubt it," Erik shrugged. "Despite the fact I almost feel physically sick having to say it... she really did love Shaw. We all know very well what I did to him."

Charles considered that and then nodded, "I can't help but wonder, if you know she won't work with you. Or at least would rather not, why keep working with _her_?"

For a moment Erik paused, before shrugging. "She is a telepath."

"Oh, I see," Charles looked away briefly, not adding the thoughts running through his head to the conversation.

"What is it, Charles?" Erik asked softly.

"Nothing. I've answered my own question."

"Which was? I can see your mind working."

"Why you would risk working with a _telepath_ after killing the man she loved. But it's a practicality I suppose."

"I have ways to avoid her telepathy anyway," Erik said, glancing away.

Charles sighed, "I know you do. It doesn't mean I'm comfortable with you working with her."

Erik managed not to point out that he had offered Charles that place by his side and shrugged. "I've already lost my flier. I'm not about to send her away without cause."

"Right. Fair enough." He still sounded anything but happy about it, but he would adjust and ignore.

Erik watched him a moment before reaching out and pulling him against his side. "It's fine, Charles."

The telepath leaned against him with a sigh, "I know. I worry though Erik."

"I should find that annoying, rather than adorable," Erik shook his head slightly. "I really should."

"Oh probably, but should isn't always the strongest incentive."

Erik hummed fondly, leaning over to nuzzle at Charles' hair. Charles drew back enough to tilt his head up and kiss Erik lightly. The taller hummed again, leaning down into the kiss. The young Professor's hand moved to tangle in Erik's hair as he leaned further into the kiss. Pressing down harder, Erik wrapped his arms around Charles' waist. Charles' free hand moved to rest on Erik's upper arm. _I love you._

_Good,_ Erik returned.

Charles drew back after another moment, "I really should make sure they're actually ready to go."

"Probably," Erik murmured, nuzzling against his cheek for a moment before drawing back.

"I could do that from here, probably...unless you want to join me in checking? It might be better than springing the fact that you're joining us on them. You are joining us tonight, yes?"

"I had thought to," he said. "Though it is not necessary that I do."

"I would like you to."

"Then I shall."

"Wonderful. So shall we check on them in person then?"

"But I do so enjoy surprising them," Erik murmured, only half joking.

Charles laughed, "I know you do, but perhaps this once?"

"This once," Erik agreed, kissing his ear. "I suppose I can."

"Thank you." He straightened, eyeing his chair before shifting from the couch to it. It was getting easier, since he had enough strength in his legs to help support the motion a bit. Still not enough for walking or anything remotely close, but enough to help him move from his chair to the couch or bed and back.

The taller watched him. "You're legs are improving."

"They are. Slowly, but surely. They still can't support my weight on their own, but they're getting there."

Erik nodded. "I'm glad," he said, voice still soft. "Your hard work is paying off."

Charles offered him a bit of a grin, "It is." He glanced toward the door, "Shall we then?"

Erik nodded, rising from the couch in one fluid motion. "Who would you like to startle first?"

"Warren and Sean are out back, so from the sounds of it they're nearest."

"They seem to be getting along well," Erik said, following the wheelchair.

"They are. There's something about flight that lends a tie."

Erik nodded again, smirking slightly.

X-X-X

Warren glanced up at their approach, and blinked several times. "Er..."

Sean looked up, eyeing Erik warily and glancing around to make sure there wasn't anything with any height anywhere nearby, "Hello, Professor, Erik."

"Hello, Sean, Warren. We were just coming to see if the two of you were still planning on coming to the fireworks tonight?"

"Of course," Warren said, looking Erik over again. "Where else would we go?"

"Just making sure."

Sean's brow arched, "Anything else, Professor?"

He hesitated, hating to ask this and it was apparent in his muted tone, "Warren, do you still have the harness for your wings?"

"Yeah?" the teenager said. "I use it to go into town sometimes."

Charles nodded slightly, "If you don't mind wearing it tonight?"

"Of course," he said, nodding. "With the lights from the fireworks, my wings would be too obvious."

Erik looked the boy over, crossing his arms and considering, something like regret twisting his stomach.

"Thank you, Warren. I'm sorry to have to ask that."

Sean glanced at Erik and then back at Warren, his gaze lingering on the younger boy's wings for a moment.

"It's fine, Professor," Warren said. "I'm used to hiding them. I mean, Hank's going to using his inducer thing anyway."

"I know, thank you, Warren." He glanced at them, "We'll be leaving within the hour. I'll see you both then."

"Sounds good," Warren said as they walked away. He turned to Banshee. "I feel like I missed something."

"Depends. What are you thinking you missed? I can probably fill you in." Whether he wanted to was another question entirely.

"Well, there were significant looks and... does Magneto just randomly show up every holiday or something?"

"Oh that's right, he hasn't showed up much since you've been here. Heads up, when he's here? He's Erik. Not Magneto, and especially not in the Professor's hearing."

"Does the Professor even watch the news?" Warren demanded. "That man strolling around our grounds is a murderer and a terrorist and we have him over for tea?"

"Actually, Professor Xavier avoids watching the news for that very reason. Erik Lehnsherr was that former teacher Hank and I told you about, and one of his associates is the Professor's sister," Sean answered quietly.

"Alright, so they had a history. Is he blind to what's going on _currently_ is the question."

"No. He's not. I don't think so anyway. And it's not even just a history. They've been seeing each other for the last seven to eight months."

Warren blinked. "We have _got_ to get more girls here. And they're still together? That... how?"

"I told you I've been saying that for a while. And yeah. They are. The real question is more how they managed to get together in the first place. I think they both know they're out of their mind. I'm just not sure they care."

Warren shook his head. "Jeez..."

"Yeah. Besides the megalomaniac tendencies and the habit he has of orchestrating robberies and assassinations, Erik's actually not a bad guy. But those are some major problems."

"I would say insurmountable problems, but apparently not."

"Yeah, I don't get it. Neither do Hank and Alex, but it is what it is."

Warren shook his head. "Unbelievable."

"Yeah. The Professor's nothing if not optimistic."

"I would be fine with this, but you realize the irony of him hanging around during the Fourth of July right?"

"Sort of? I mostly try not to think too much about it."

Shaking his head again, Warren turned. "Right, well, time to go hunt up the harness then."

"Alright, I'll see you later. Gonna go see if I can find some blankets and things for us to sit on that aren't some family heirloom or something."

"Good luck with that," Warren said with a snort, knowing the situation with family heirlooms well. Sean offered him a bit of a grin before slipping into the mansion.

X-X-X

Puttering around the kitchen, Hank paused when he heard the sounds of someone approaching.

Charles pushed the door open, rolling in, "Good evening, Hank."

"Evening again, Professor. I was just seeing about warm beverages or snacks." He glanced back further to see Erik in the doorway. "I'll pack an extra cup then."

Charles nodded slightly, "Thank you, Hank. I just wanted to let you know we'll be heading out in a little under an hour."

"Yes, Professor," Hank said, voice brisk.

The telepath frowned slightly at that, "Is everything alright?"

"Everything is perfectly fine, Professor," Hank replied.

One eyebrow arched, but he didn't have the chance to contradict that before Alex came in through the back door, looking like he'd been working on the cars again. Which he had, "Ah, Alex."

The blond stopped, "Oh, hey Professor." His eyes drifted to Erik, nodding slightly, but not saying anything to him.

Erik returned the small nod, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

Charles glanced between the two younger men, "We'll be leaving in less than an hour, Alex."

"I'll go get cleaned up in a minute, Professor."

Hank leaned slightly toward Alex. "Cars doing alright?"

He nodded, "Yeah, they're in good shape. Everything going well in here?"

"Yes, of course," Hank replied.

Charles hesitated for a moment before nodding to Erik for the two of them to leave, "We'll see you in a bit, Hank. Alex."

The blond nodded slightly, his focus on Hank. Erik followed Charles out, closing the door behind him. Hank continued putting food away automatically for a moment before finally turning back to Alex. "You want to say something. Might as well."

"What's wrong?"

For a moment Hank paid more attention to the pack of Twinkies than Alex. "It still bothers me. The professor."

Alex considered that, setting the rag he'd been wiping his hands on aside and reaching out to lay a hand on Hank's shoulder, "I know. Have you tried talking to him yet?"

"No," Hank admitted.

"Maybe you should give that a shot?"

The taller mutant paused and then nodded. "Yes. I should. I just can't seem to figure out when."

Alex shrugged, "Don't put it off too long, or you won't get to it. I'm gonna go get cleaned up."

"If you must," Hank said with a small smile before sighing. "And I'll keep that in mind."

"I'll be back down in a bit." He leaned up, careful not to get any grease on Hank's fur, and kissed his cheek.

Tilting his head, Hank nodded. "Alright. I know it's summer, but remember a jacket or something, would you?"

Alex gave him a look, but nodded, "Yeah, I'll remember one."

"What?" he asked softly off Alex's look.

"I was reminding myself not to call you 'mom'." Alex grinned, the term of address steeped in sarcasm.

Hank bit his bottom lip, but managed to smile anyway. "Sorry. I'm just nervous a little. At least it'll be plenty dark out."

"It will be. You'll be fine, Hank." Alex hesitated before reaching out and running his fingers through the fur on Hank's cheek.

"Of course," Hank said softly. "Thanks. See you in a little bit then?"

"Yeah, see you soon." Havok stepped back, slipping out of the kitchen to go get changed.

Hank watched him go, before returning to what he'd been doing, sighing again. He couldn't decide if it was the thought of crowds bothering him more, or being out in public with Alex where others could see.

X-X-X

It was heading on toward midnight when they finally returned to the mansion. The show had been artistic this year and Charles remembered why he enjoyed attending the public show. There was something extra to be able to see the fireworks through perspectives different than his own—without delving into minds since many were focused on them with thoughts of them at the forefront. It was a different feel entirely than moving through a crowded park, or down a busy street with so many separate thoughts constantly at war with each other in his mind. He'd learned to block most of them years ago, but there was always a dull roar at the back of his head.

"I still say," Erik remarked, removing his hat. "I could have just set them all off at once."

The telepath shook his head, somewhere between fond and exasperated, "And I will say it again: that's not the point of the show."

"It would have been very bright," Erik replied with a smirk.

"Yes, it would have, and it still would have defeated the purpose," Charles answered with a smile.

"Perhaps," he said finally as the younger mutants filed past them into the house.

"Thank you for coming, Erik."

"I'm not sure that's something to thank me for," Erik said, running a hand through Charles' hair. "I like coming too much."

"It does take your time, and you have to slip away. After all, my students are well aware that you come," the smaller man leaned into the touch.

"Well when you put it that way," Erik smiled fondly.

"I love you."

"I'll kindly ask that you never stop," Erik replied. "We should get you to bed."

"Can you stay tonight?"

"If you want me to."

"Please stay."

Erik flicked a strand of Charles' hair. "Alright. The fireworks were rather lovely."

"I'm glad you thought so."

Erik nodded, not thinking about the last time they watched something explode in the sky together. Though, on the beach they'd been paying more attention to something else by the time the missiles exploded over the ships.

Charles motioned to the hall to his room, "Shall we?"

Nodding, Erik followed the wheelchair down the hallway.

X-X-X

_July 8th, 1963_

Sitting in the kitchen, working on something for dinner, Hank glanced up when he thought he heard someone approach.

Charles entered, pausing just inside the doorway, "Good afternoon, Hank."

"Ah, afternoon, Professor. Can I do anything for you?"

"I was actually coming to ask you the same thing."

"Come again?" Hank asked, blinking.

"It's a large house and even larger grounds, but there're only a handful of us and you've been avoiding me."

"Have I?" Hank tried to evade again and sighed. "I suppose I have."

"What's wrong, Hank?" Charles sighed, his blue eyes studying the other man, though he kept out of his head.

Hank managed not to ask why Charles didn't just figure it out for himself and shrugged. "I suppose... I'm still unsure what to do about what you said about Moira."

"Which part?"

"There's a question here?" Hank asked. "You wiped her memories."

The Professor nodded very slightly, "Yes, I did."

"You're not even bothered by having done it, are you?" Hank asked softly.

"It was something that had to be done, Hank."

"I'm not even sure I'm disagreeing with you there," Hank replied, voice a little hot as he turned, rummaging in the cupboard for something to do, finding the Twinkies and deciding desperate times called for measures. "But you don't even look like you were remorseful about it."

"Would you feel better if I told you I was?"

"I don't know," the blue mutant replied.

"How honest do you want me to be about this, Hank?"

"As much as you can be might be a start," he said.

"Then, no. I didn't feel remorse. It's not the first time I've done that to protect those I love."

Hank blinked once at that and felt slightly ashamed at the last words. "I just... The fact you can scares me. The idea that someday you could do that to any of us."

"I wouldn't though. It's painful to take something that belongs to another person like that."

"And if it was for someone's safety?" Hank asked and knew he should stop right there. "Like Erik's?"

Charles looked at him for a long moment as he tried to figure out how to answer that, "I..." He shook his head finally, "No. Not even for Erik."

Hank took a deep breath. "It just is frightening," he murmured, glancing away. "I'm sorry."

"No, I am well aware that it is. There's no need for you to apologize just, please don't avoid me. I give you my word that I will never violate your privacy and your mind like that."

After a moment the larger mutant nodded. "Alright. Would, would you like some?" he asked, offering the pack of Twinkies as an attempt as a peace offering and apology.

Charles offered him a slight smile, and took it, "Thank you. It's alright, Hank, really."

"Alright," he said faintly.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Hank shook his head. "No. I just need time, and to think some more."

"Alright. Take care, Hank."

"You too, Professor."

* * *

><p>So, some of you may notice a slight change this chapter from previous ones. There are now dates. As time is found we will be revising the older chapters so there are dates on those ones as well. The reason behind this is that we're going to be doing consistent time skips. We'll try to make sure they spread out enough so there aren't very many (if any at all) in the middle of a chapter, but to keep it organized and help you all know when we are we've decided to add in the dates.<p>

Hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you all for the lovely feedback!


	22. Just a Stupid Dream

_August 1963_

Alex woke with a start, his gaze flickering around the room as the panic left over from is dream spurred him out of bed. He reached for his adapter and took off downstairs, pulling it on as he went. He finally got to the bunker, yanking the door shut behind him with a _clang_ and immediately firing off a continuous blast of energy.

Having been moving between the kitchen and the lab, Hank all but dropped the food he'd been carrying at the sound of the clang in the all but silent house, followed by muffled sounds from the bunker. Frowning, he set the food aside and made his way down there, knocking on the door. "Alex?"

Alex powered down and glanced at the door, "What?"

"Everything alright?" Hank asked, adjusting his lab coat.

"Course." He felt almost completely drained now, and hadn't really expected to enjoy that feeling, though his body was trembling. He still didn't open the door.

"Alex, you're practicing at three in the morning. What's up?"

"Couldn't sleep." He hesitated for a moment, "Door's open."

Pausing for a moment, Hank pushed it open, stepping inside and closing it again. "Hey. Any reason?"

"Just couldn't sleep." He picked up the fire extinguisher and went to put out the still flaming remains of the target.

"Your control seems to be getting better," Hank remarked, watching him.

"I'm using the adapter. It helps."

"I'm glad of that at least," Hank said, still watching him.

Alex glanced at him, "What?"

"It's three am," Hank repeated, possibly a little stupidly. "I'm just concerned."

"I'm fine. Just couldn't sleep. Needed to blow off some steam." He was still trembling, though he wasn't certain if it was from energy loss or after effects of his dream.

Hesitating a moment, Hank reached out and laid and hand on his arm. "Except for the shaking, I might have believed that."

He took a step back, away from the touch, "I just used too much of my power."

"Alex," Hank said softly, frowning and wanting to reach back out.

"What?" Alex very nearly snapped.

Hank managed not to flinch back at that. "I...I can't be worried?"

The blond glanced away, "I...sorry. Must be more tired than I thought."

"Have you been sleeping?"

"Tonight? Or recently?"

"Either?" Hank offered, unsure.

"Yeah. Just couldn't sleep tonight. I-I'm fine, Hank."

"Are you sure?" Hank asked, moving toward him again hesitantly.

Alex didn't draw away this time, but dropped his gaze, nodding, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," Hank said and finally reached out to engulf the other in an embrace. "I'm allowed to worry anyway, right?"

Alex stiffened at the embrace, but nodded very slightly, "You don't need to. It was just a stupid dream." He froze as he realized he'd said that.

"A dream?" Hank asked softly. "What sort of dream?"

"J-just a dream."

"Sometimes talking about them helps. You know, most people have dreams."

"Yeah? Well most people aren't walking bombs."

"I suppose not," Hank agreed. "...What was it about then?"

He buried his face in Hank's fur, his answer muted, "Darwin's death."

Hank took a deep breath before nodding, running a hand down Alex's back. "Oh Alex."

"It-it wasn't him though."

"It," Hank frowned. "Huh?"

Alex pushed back, away from the embrace, "It wasn't Darwin who Shaw made swallow my power. It," he swallowed hard, stopping.

"Alex?" Hank asked softly, arms feeling empty.

Havok wrapped his arms around himself and turned away, finally able to say it when he wasn't looking at Hank. The words were barely audible, "It was you."

For a moment Hank just looked at him, swallowing. "It's never going to happen," he said finally. "For one thing, Shaw is dead. For another, you aren't going to hurt me."

"I could though. A-and it doesn't matter if that exactly isn't going to happen, in my dreams it does and it scares me, Hank."

After another pause, Hank nodded and reached out to draw him back in again. "I know. Somewhat. I have my nightmares too."

Alex leaned against him, asking softly, "Like what?"

"Well," Hank said. "My appearance has taken a turn in the last year or so toward the feline. Not to mention a great deal more strength. I almost strangled Erik once, remember? What if my strength got out of control? Or... I sometimes dream that I'm devolving and someday I'll wake up and be a giant cat and I'll sit in my lab and play with a ball of yarn."

Alex drew back just enough to look up at Hank, "It won't. And you won't."

"But in my dreams it does," Hank said softly.

"Oh, Hank. We-we're going to be alright. Both of us, right?"

"We're both going to be fine," Hank said softly.

"Good." Alex leaned his head against Hank's chest again, finally calming down.

Hank continued stroking his back, finally offering the other mutant a small purr.

"What are you doing up, anyway?"

"Was checking an experiment," he said. "It needed to be looked at every hour. However, after checking it in another fifteen minutes I'll be done for the night."

"So you'll be heading to bed then?"

Hank nodded and shifted slightly.

Alex swallowed, finally speaking again, "I-I think I've pretty well zapped my power store for tonight."

Glancing down at him, Hank ran a hand through his hair. "Oh?"

He could ask this, right, "Would...I mean..." Havok drew a deep breath, "Do you mind if I spend the night with you?"

Hank's smile spread across his face. "Please do," he murmured. "I had no idea how to ask you the same thing."

Alex offered him a bit of a lopsided grin, running a hand over the back of his neck, "So, fifteen minutes 'til the test is done?"

Hank swallowed. "More like thirteen now," he said, managing a grin.

"Well, I gotta get this all cleaned up. I can probably have that done by then."

"Sounds good," Hank murmured, running one of his furred hands through Alex's hair. "Just a few minutes then."

"See you then." Alex paused before leaning up to kiss Hank lightly and then stepped back.

Hank smiled at the kiss, nodding before stepping back himself to finish the test he'd spent hours on already. It would be a shame to have to redo the whole thing because he found Alex's eyes too distracting. Alex watched him go, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips but he shook himself out of his reverie and turned his attention to clearing the debris out of the bunker.

Several minutes later, Hank knocked on the bunker door again. Alex came out, closing the door behind him offering him a slight smile, "Hey."

"Hey," Hank said quietly, suddenly unsure what was going on. "Which... well, which room?"

"Um, yours?" Alex proposed quietly.

Hank considered blushing and nodded. "Sure," he said. "If you would like...?"

"I-I would."

Nodding, Hank turned to lead the way. Pushing the door open, he glanced around his room. It was clean enough, this was true, but the periodic table poster on the wall, and the piles and piles of books pointed perhaps a little more toward being a nerd rather than cool.

Alex's brows shot up at the sight of the periodic table. "You really have a poster of that?"

He would have blushed if he could. "Is it really that much of a surprise?"

"No, guess not. It's so, you, just still isn't quite what I expected."

Hank smiled at him faintly. "Well, so long as it's still me I suppose."

The blond offered him a bit of a grin, "It is. Though the rest of the walls are kinda bare."

Hank shrugged. "Not really sure what else to put up. Have you seen the inside of Warren's room? He has pictures up everywhere... but I don't know."

"Well, it's okay then if you don't mind it," it was after all Hank's room. He could deal with bare walls for a night.

"Do I want to ask what you have up, in that case?" Hank asked, shrugging out of the labcoat and setting his spectacles on the side table.

Alex shrugged, "Not much. A couple band posters, and some car stuff." More like several band posters and car things. He was still in process on it, but his end goal was to have all the walls as covered as possible.

Hank grinned at that. "That's rather you."

Havok offered him another smile, "Yeah, you can tell a lot about a person by what they put up."

Unable to stop grinning, Hank nodded. "I have the periodic table."

"Exactly."

"Well, I..." Hank floundered and gestured to the bed. "We should see about that sleep thing."

Alex glanced at the bed, but nodded, "Yeah, probably should."

Hank shifted, turning and fishing out his nightclothes, slipping away for a moment to change before returning, feeling more nervous the more he thought about it. Alex hesitated for another moment and then moved over to the bed, "Which side do you usually sleep on?"

"The right, usually," he replied. "But, I mean, whichever."

"Fair enough," He slipped under the blankets on the left side.

Swallowing, Hank considered the bed another moment before slipping under the covers on the other side, moving slightly nearer to the other mutant.

Alex paused for a long moment before sliding over, "Do you mind if..?"

"If?" Hank asked.

"If I curl up next to you?"

"Please," Hank replied. "Feel free."

Alex offered him a bit of a smile and moved closer, curling up next to Hank. Shifting, Hank snaked his arm around Alex's waist, settling down, suddenly a great deal more comfortable. Alex moved just a bit closer, closing his eyes and letting himself relax one hand moving to rest on Hank's chest. Letting out another breath, Hank purred softly.

The blond smiled softly, blinking slowly as he started to drift off, "Thank you, Hank."

"Of course, Alex," Hank replied fondly, a hand running through his hair. "Sleep well."

"You too, g'night, Hank."

Still purring, Hank let himself fall asleep with Alex wrapped in his arms.

* * *

><p>So, as a note, the next two chapters (this one makes three) are a few pages shorter than our average chapter length. This is because, try as we might, we couldn't find a good break that didn't split a crucial scene in half. We also apologize for the fact that Hank and Alex are trying their hardest to take over the story. We will return to your regularly scheduled Charles and Erik next chapter. This is, however, a fic that cycles around all the characters. Charles and Erik are the thread that tie it all together, but we will diverge from time to time into exploring the other pairings and characters as well.<p>

Thank you for the wonderful feedback, it really makes our days!


	23. I'm Content in This Madness

_August 15, 1963_

Erik looked up in confusion when Emma Frost breezed into his office, expression set. "Can I help you?" he asked, voice a bit wary.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I want to make a proposal to you," she replied. "I want to leave."

Again, he considered her a long moment. "How is that a proposal, exactly?"

"That wasn't it," she replied, and looked like she wanted to roll her eyes. "Look, your little friend, Xavier? He has a school, he's constantly training new recruits and replacements, whatever. Once he told you your enemy had friends, it was about time you did too. Maybe it's time for you to start something that matches his establishment."

Erik's spine tensed suddenly. "How did you know about that?" he asked, voice low and gravely, full of sudden rage. No one else had heard that conversation as far as he knew.

Shrugging, she watched his expression closely. "You wear that helmet all day, hon, but you dream really loudly at night. And you dream about him a whole hell of a lot."

Suddenly, Erik stood up, fury radiating off him. "What else do you know?"

"Whatever you've been dreaming about lately," she said and shrugged. "Look, I honestly don't give a damn about whatever you do with him when you think we're not paying you any attention. I don't even begrudge you having a heart, though god knows it's a bit of a shock. I'm sure there are some that wouldn't be quite so pleased, but me? I don't care. I just want to get out of this situation. So, here's the proposal: I have several college degrees and a good head for business. I'll set up a school like his, for you. I'll gather children around, find some help, and start training kids."

"How will you find the mutants?" Erik asked, voice still low.

She shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I'm a telepath, remember? My range is not nearly as good as his nifty gadget, but it's something. Besides, we can always mop up his leftovers if we have to. Though I doubt it'd come to this."

"If you dislike me so much," Erik said, forcing his voice to be mild. "Why aren't you going to him with this idea, to teach at his school?"

"Dislike? Honey, I'm pretty sure I hate you," she replied. "But as bad as you are, and as much as I want to be physically away from you and your little blue sidekick, he's worse. I have no intention of ending up under his optimistic and stifling wing. I'd much rather my own school."

Pausing, a little insulted on Charles' behalf, Erik nodded. "Alright. Do you need anything?"

"Besides your blessing?" she drawled, sarcasm dripping from every word. "A place to set up. I'll do the rest."

X-X-X_  
><em>

_September 1963_

Charles leaned heavily against his dresser, one hand resting on top of it to support his weight. His legs weren't in braces, but they were still a bit iffy about supporting his weight for any length of time. The telepath was currently carding his free hand through his hair and frowning at his reflection in the mirror. The more he combed through his hair the deeper his frown got.

Still sprawled out on the bed, Erik watched him with a fond expression. "What's the matter, old friend?"

"I'm going grey," his tone sounded petulant, his blue gaze flickering to glance at Erik in the reflection.

Erik's smile just became fonder as his eyes crinkled slightly at the edges, trying not to laugh at the other's tone. "There are worse things to happen. You could be going bald."

"That's not a comfort, Erik. My father didn't go grey until he was forty. I should have about ten years before I start showing signs of age!" He leaned closer to the mirror as though to confirm it, "I like my hair brown."

"Your brown hair was very charming," Erik assured him. "But this makes you look very dignified. Like the professor you should be."

"I'm barely thirty, Erik!" Charles finally turned from the mirror, resting his hands on the dresser behind him for support.

"But a very dignified thirty," Erik reminded him, looking far too amused.

"You are getting far too much pleasure out of this," Charles remarked, his expression bordering very close to a pout.

"Perhaps a bit," he admitted, standing and strolling over to wrap his arms around Charles' waist, burying his nose in the other's hair.

Charles considered sulking for a moment longer, but instead settled for wrapping his arms around the other, using Erik for support, and leaning his head against his chest, "It just doesn't make sense."

"Greying?" Erik asked, smoothing a hand over the mostly brown hair.

"Greying so soon," the smaller man leaned into the touch.

"Well, don't worry, I don't care what your hair looks like. Even if it's charming."

He glanced up, "You really mean that? The charming bit I mean."

The taller blinked once and nodded. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

Charles shrugged, "No reason. You know how I get about my hair."

"Yes," Erik said, kissing it again. It felt like cheating, to come into this room and leave all his issues and worries at the door.

The telepath tilted his head back and leaned up to kiss the other. Returning the kiss, Erik felt like he usually did like maybe he was betraying some cause. But causes were left at the door with everything else. They were just here together and that's all he wanted then.

Charles pressed into the kiss, resting a hand on the other's cheek. Causes, sides, ideals, he really couldn't give a damn at the moment. These rooms were neutral territory and would be for as long as he could permit them to be.

Arms tightening around the other's waist, Erik lifted him up slightly, as much using his arms as the metal fastening on the other's clothes to take some of the pressure off his legs.

The shorter man made a soft sound at that, but smiled against the kiss. _Must you always do that?_

_Yes,_ Erik replied calmly. _I like to be of service after all._ And part of him was still hyperaware of why he needed to, though he tried not to think about it after being admonished by Charles too many times.

_It's not that necessary. My legs are always getting stronger..._

Drawing back for a breath, Erik considered him. "I know, I'm glad. That doesn't mean I don't want to."

"Well, thank you then," Charles offered him a smile. "It still startles me."

"After all this time?" Erik asked, smirking slightly.

"Yes, even after all this time," Charles shook his head, still smiling. "I don't always mind, but it does catch me off-guard."

"So long as you don't mind," Erik murmured.

"I don't," the telepath repeated, leaning up to kiss him again.

Twining his hands around the other's waist, Erik pressed down into the kiss, turning it just a little harder. Charles wrapped one arm around Erik's waist, the other going to tangle in his hair as he pressed up into the kiss, reciprocating the heat of it. Pulling away again for breath, Erik considered him a long moment, as if debating something. The young professor looked up, his gaze searching Erik's face questioningly, but he didn't pry, waiting for the other to voice whatever it was.

"We've been doing this a long time," he said finally past a suddenly dry throat. "I've never, never had someone I would travel miles for no matter where I was in the world just to see."

Charles dropped his gaze, "We have been doing this for a long while. I...wish I could make that travel easier, shorter." He glanced up again, "What else are you saying, Erik?"

"Travel's never been the issue," he said, smoothing a hand over Charles' cheek. "Don't you remember? The globe was my home. I've been everywhere. A few miles mean nothing to me. What does is having someone at the end of them. But we're apart so much..." Here at least he was inching closer to what he actually meant to say. For being so direct usually, this was hard.

The smaller man placed his hand over Erik's leaning into the touch, "We are. We've made do, though."

"You... a while ago you mentioned the idea of a mental link," he said softly.

That caused the other to pause for a moment before nodding, "Yes, I did."

Erik took a deep breath. "What would that mean? What would it entail?"

"It...well, it means full disclosure. Complete trust and honesty on both our parts. No more secrets. My memories are yours and vice versa. I can help you learn how to block it as needed, and your," he hesitated, "helmet will help as well in that regard. As to what it entails? I've done minor links before, they're like...stringing a rope over a river to shimmy across it. A full link is more like...building a stone bridge. Until one or both of us decide to sever it, it will be there."

"Permanent mental attachment," Erik murmured. "How far does it go?" _How far away can I be and still feel you?_

"I...can't say for certain. My own range, without Cerebro, is present at approximately 200, perhaps 250 miles. The link could extend only that far, or perhaps twice as far. It might ever be further than that. I don't honestly know."

"It's something that we'd have to see then, isn't it?" Erik murmured.

Charles' eyes widened, "Are...does that mean...are you sure about this, Erik?"

"Yes," he said, voice quiet and eyes intense. "I am. Are you?"

The telepath nodded, "Yes, I am."

Erik leaned down, kissing him deeply but briefly. "Then we're both sure."

Charles offered him a bit of a smile, "I should sit down at least before we start this." His gaze darted to his wheelchair within easy reach, "I don't know how much energy this will take."

Swallowing, Erik stepped back, leading him over. "The wheelchair or the couch?" he asked, voice a bit raw.

"Couch I think."

Erik nodded, leading him over though he knew he didn't have to since he was already floating the other slightly. He just didn't want to let go of Charles' hand.

Charles settled on the couch beside Erik, leaning against the taller man. He did so partially out of a desire for closeness and partially for the physical link it gave him. Bringing his hand up to the other's temple, Erik petted his hair for a moment. "I love you," he told him, in reassurance for the both of them.

"I love you too, so very much," Charles murmured before he closed his eyes, and raised his free hand to his temple. He hadn't been using the physical crutch for a while, but something like this required it.

He carefully delved into both of their minds, gently removing any walls either of them had and forming what equated to mental bridges in the most similar locations in their mindscapes. It took a long time but he finally reached the final "door" for both of them, the place of the mind where everyone keeps their deepest secrets, and hesitated.

After a long moment of reminding himself of his words about complete honesty, the telepath formed the final bridge and opened both doors, setting them ajar. His blue eyes opened and he looked to Erik, not saying anything for the moment.

Erik's eyes hadn't been closed, watching the other closely as he felt mental barriers being knocked at before dropping, and getting hints and mingled emotions off the other man. With that final door though, their minds rushed at each other, swirling together. That made him close his eyes, and it took him a few breathless minutes to sort out which mind was actually his.

Charles took a long moment to sort out his own memories. There was pain he knew wasn't his own, and emotions that were far too strong to have been his at a younger age. He finally managed to pull himself far enough into his own mind to lower the hand from his temple and rest it over Erik's hand.

Having less practice with meeting other's minds, Erik took longer, though he let his forehead fall against the other's when he felt Charles' hand over his. "Gott," he murmured, accent hardening on the German word.

"Are you alright?"

Erik replied in French, languages mixed up in his mind. "Un moment," he said, accent changing again slightly to pronounce the words.

The telepath nodded, his hand moving from Erik's grasp to rest on the other's temple to lend some support in sorting the memories and thoughts. He wouldn't actually do it for the other, just lend him an assistance to calm his mind.

After another moment, Erik opened his eyes, though he was still speaking in German. "You didn't tell me."

Charles blinked at him in confusion, "There's a lot of memories going between us right now, Erik. What didn't I tell you?"

"Your stepfather-" _That son of a whore who's lucky he's dead_- "Those scars... you have never fully forgiven me have you, no matter how hard you convinced _yourself_ you had?"

Charles looked away, _Erik, no matter what he was he was my step-father please find another term_ "I...hadn't realized I hadn't told you that. About Kurt Marko I mean." He drew his arms tightly around his own waist, instinctively making himself smaller at the thought of the man, "He, he married my mother not long after my father died. I wasn't his first target, that was his son, Cain. Cain would take his aggression out on me. I may have _suggested_ my mother send Raven to a girl's prep school at about that time. I...I tried to help, to block the pain for my step-brother, but all I got was the feedback. I didn't have enough control at the time.

"When Marko was drunk he'd occasionally go after my mother. I...froze him once, like I did with Shaw, though it was only for a moment. I didn't even know I could do that until then. Somehow he figured out that I had done it. I became the scapegoat. The scars are from a night when he was drunk and angry enough that he held the belt by the wrong end-it had a massive brass buckle."

Erik's eyes had darkened, unable to stop mixing up the memories in his past of Shaw and the camps with the feel of a belt buckle that he'd never felt. "Charles," he whispered, German accent still strong though he was finally figuring out he wasn't speaking the right languages anymore. Reaching out, he gathered the smaller man to his chest. "Charles, darling, god."

Charles leaned his head against Erik's chest, his arms moving to wrap around the other man as he received the wave of emotions and memories of the camps and Shaw. He closed his eyes, "Oh, Erik... We're both alright. We've made it here, we've made it this far."

Biting back his first response of that he honestly could hardly believe it, he realized Charles had already heard. "I don't want anyone else to hurt you," he said. "Even me." He had to speak slowly to make sure he was speaking English, the words wanting to come out in Spanish. He'd never been so confused with languages in his life.

Charles opened his eyes again and looked up, "You won't. Not intentionally. You'd never do that." He smiled faintly at the thought of the languages, _Those will straighten out given a short while._

He made a distressed noise as if a while was actually painful to him. "I can't guarantee my actions," he murmured. "I just, I can't."

The telepath rested his hand on Erik's cheek, "I don't ask you to. No one can. We can't see the future, Erik. But I trust you not to."

"Trust is dangerous," he said, leaning his head hard against the other's.

"Not always," Charles replied softly.

"Trusting me is," he protested, mind still settling down again, jagged in new places and soothed in others.

"Not always," the smaller man repeated, firmly. "You are one of the few people I know who I believe I am able to trust, Erik. Do you think I would have offered this," he touched the other man's mind through the link, "if I didn't?"

Erik blinked rapidly, something like tears wanting to gather. "But I," he started to protest and gave up, letting the truth of the bond smooth over his mind. "Gott," he murmured. "This is madness."

Charles traced his thumb over Erik's cheekbone, "Perhaps it is, but is all madness a bad sort?"

"No," he said. "No, it's not. But it is."

"Well, in all honesty, I'm content in this madness. I love you, Erik, more than I ever thought possible."

"I am unbelievably thankful," Erik murmured in reply, tilting his head to kiss the other softly.

Charles returned the kiss, letting his emotions slip through the link as he slid slightly closer to the other man. Making a sound deep in his throat at the feedback, Erik pulled him just that much closer. The telepath smiled against the kiss, adjusting his position so that he could move nearer the other, practically on his lap, without braking the kiss.

Smiling faintly at that against the kiss, Erik reached forward and pulled the other the rest of the way over, securing him on his lap. A strong feeling of possession and protection thrummed through the link. Charles pressed nearer, one hand moving to rest on Erik's shoulder as the other moved to rest at his waist. His emotions twined around one another as they wove through the link: love, trust, hope, safety.

Erik pulled him closer, affection and hope joining the possessive streak. The smaller man drew back just enough to catch his breath, resting his forehead against Erik's for a moment before leaning in and kissing him again.

Considering for a split second-not long enough for Charles to pick up on it-Erik shifted them suddenly, flipping Charles down to lay him out across the couch and following. The telepath let out a soft noise of surprise, the emotion flaring brightly via the link for a moment.

Grinning, Erik kissed him again, hands trailing down his sides. A tremor ran through Charles' body at that and he smiled into the kiss, his own hands moving to Erik's chest, tracing patterns there, one gliding up to behind the German's head to toy with his hair. Erik sent a surge of affection and passion through the link, pulling him closer.

The telepath gasped slightly, love and passion of his own, wrapping around Erik's emotions and mind. Erik pulled back for a second, the feedback still too much for him. "Are we making it to the bed?" he rasped, nuzzling against Charles' ear.

Charles tilted his head to give him better access to his ear and neck, "Hm? M-maybe? There's more room there."

"Means moving," Erik murmured. He continued his ministrations on the ear and neck, moving up to nuzzle against the grey hair for a second before returning to the other's throat.

"Th-then no," Charles managed to reply, the touch on the sensitive skin at his throat more than slightly distracting.

Smirking, Erik licked his way back to the smaller man's mouth, hands moving down his sides.

* * *

><p>So, we give you yet another chapter in which Charles and Erik take a step forward and two back when it comes to communication. At least they can't lie to each other any more, though that link is going to be coming back time and time again.<p>

Thank you all for the continued feedback, we really do enjoy hearing what you've thought!


	24. So Helplessly In Love With You

_October 1963_

Walking into his room, Hank swore softly. "You think I would be used to this," he muttered, holding his dark shirt up and frowning at all the blue fur stuck on it. "It's been a year. I should be used to shedding now." But the idea of it still made him want to scream.

Alex was on his way past Hank's room. Hearing the other young man in there he stuck his head in, his eyes landing on the shirt, "Trouble with fur, Hank?"

"I don't want to shed," he muttered in reply, sulky, balling the shirt up and throwing it in a hamper in the corner.

The blond entered the room and moved over, running his fingers through the fur at Hank's shoulders, pulling his hand away with several of the silky strands attached to it. He considered for a moment, "Have you thought about having it brushed?"

Turning to look at him, Hank blinked for several moments. "Brushed?" he asked in slight confusion. "I mean, I shower and wash and all that, but brushed? It's not that long."

"It might help with some of the loose fur though," Alex offered quietly.

Hank shifted slightly, rolling his shoulder from where he could still feel Alex's touch. "I can hardly reach all my own fur," he muttered, glancing away. There were so many boundaries when it came to touch between them, even after so long.

There was a long moment of hesitation while Alex thought about it and continued to finger-comb Hank's fur, "I could do it. I mean, if you don't mind of course."

Hank blinked again. "If... if you would?" he managed.

The younger man nodded, "I'd just need a brush."

"I don't have one," he said, a little shame faced.

"I can go see what I can find," Alex offered, softly.

"Alright," Hank said. "I need to take a shower, that was my original plan."

"Alright, I'll be back in a bit."

"Alright," Hank repeated and winced when he realized he'd already said that. "Alex, thank you."

Alex offered him a faint grin, "You're welcome, Hank."

Hank gave him a small smile before slinking into the bathroom.

Alex slipped out of the room to see what he could find for a brush and comb. He returned about an hour later having finally located some things he thought would work. One was a rubber curry comb, another a stiff- bristled brush and finally a simple comb.

Hank had showered in that time, fur still a little damp. He'd been tinkering with some gadget he was working on rather than think too hard on the fact Alex was returning. He felt awkward and like he did the first time they went out together.

Alex hesitated before knocking lightly on the door to Hank's room.

Opening the door a little quickly, Hank gave him a smile. "You, ah, found brushes." He hadn't bothered to put another shirt on.

The blond offered him a bit of a grin, his gaze briefly skimming over Hank's figure, "Yeah, I found brushes."

"Well," Hank said, shifting and standing to one side. "Come in if you like."

Alex entered, almost hesitantly, "Thanks."

Shifting, Hank glanced around. "So, um, how would this be best?" Why did things have to feel so awkward?

Alex actually felt a blush grace his cheeks as he answered, "It would be easiest on the bed probably."

"Makes sense," Hank murmured and was glad he couldn't blush anymore. The blond hesitated for another long moment before making his way over and sitting down on the bed. Hank followed, sitting down next to him. "Well, I..."

"Lay down," Alex murmured, his gaze focused on the brushes he was setting aside.

"Oh," Hank said and settled on the bed, laying on his stomach.

Alex shifted, kneeling beside Hank on the bed. He finally picked up the curry comb, "This is going to brush against the grain a little. I'll smooth it down again, just want to warn you."

Blinking, Hank nodded. "Alright."

The blond started with following the way the fur naturally lay, using his free hand to sweep the loose fur off Hank's back and into a pile. He gently started moving the curry comb in more of a circular motion, treating it as much as a massager as a brush as he worked on combing the fur across the other young man's back.

Having tensed when the brush started, by the time Alex had reached the small of his back, he was purring softly, unaware he was doing it.

Alex smiled slightly, working the comb back up Hank's back again, slowly. He set the curry comb aside, gathering more of the loose fur off of his back and adding it to the rapidly growing pile, before picking up the bristle brush and smoothing that over the blue mutant's back. Shifting so his muscles rolled under his back, Hank was vaguely aware he was about to melt into his mattress.

The blond would pause every so often to clean the fur out of the brush and off of Hank's back before continuing. He set the brush aside and picked up the curry comb once more, only going over Hank's fur once this time, and picking up the fine-tooth comb to finish, going carefully. The other brushes should have caught any possible knots or anything of that sort, but better safe than sorry.

Shifting again, Hank wasn't sure he had ever felt this indulged in his life. He wondered if this was why women went to the spa, and if the feelings came close. His chest rumbled as he turned his head to look at Alex, eyes lidded.

Alex set the comb aside, running his hand over the newly brushed fur, offering Hank a slight smile. His hand stilled between Hank's shoulder blades, feeling the purr under his hand and he bit his lip at the other man's expression. He finally asked quietly, "You liked that then?"

"I wish I could do something the same for you," he murmured in reply.

"No need. You've done so much already."

Hank rolled over, cupping Alex's cheek. "I have?"

Alex swallowed, nodding, "Yeah. Really, you have. I...can't begin to repay you for it."

"But this," Hank said, smoothing a thumb below Alex's eye. "This is different."

Alex's brows drew together in some confusion, but he finally nodded, "Yeah, I guess it is."

Frowning slightly Hank shifted, drawing Alex closer, kissing him very softly, almost questioning. Alex hesitated before returning the kiss, carefully. Moving just a bit closer, Hank pulled him a bit tighter in, still feeling relaxed and happy but unsure. Havok leaned into the kiss, letting himself be drawn closer, his brain still not catching up with what was going on.

Vaguely aware this was not an issue that should be pressed, Hank tugged him even closer, pulling him to lie down next to him. As he started to lower himself down next to Hank, the younger man finally processed what was going on and stiffened, breaking the kiss and starting to pull away. Hank blinked his eyes opened and jerked back. "Alex?"

He shook his head, pulling back and starting to gather up the brushes and the fur to deal with it, "I can't Hank."

"Can't?" Hank asked, pushing himself up. "Can't what?" He knew the answer. "Why not?"

"I don't want to hurt you," Alex replied quietly, focusing on using the brush to get the last of the loose fur up from the bedspread.

Hank blinked, and blinked again. "You won't," he declared.

"You don't know that!" the blond snapped, climbing off the foot of the bed and dropping the loose fur into the trashcan.

"I believe that," he replied, voice still firm.

Alex looked away again as he picked up the brush and combs, "I don't."

"I do," he said, sitting up fully and gently taking Alex's shoulders and turning him to face him. "Alex, I... I love you. And we've been, it's almost been a year and what we have is amazing and more than I could have imagined or asked for, but... I want you. I want all of you. I want to kiss you and not have you pull away in fear. I want you to be happy. I want everything. Even you in my bed." He swallowed as soon as he said that. "Maybe that's selfish. Sometimes though, you're all I think about. When you're around I'm so aware of you sometimes Sean or Warren are talking to me and I don't hear them. Even when you're not I get so distracted. I am so helplessly in love with you, Alex Summers. I want to figure this out." He shrank back after delivering that speech, only half believing he'd actually said it.

Alex stood stock still during Hank's speech, his mouth agape as he tried to formulate a response. His brain was hung up on the first sentence and once he pulled it past that the rest did little better. He stayed immobile for a good minute after Hank had finished, trying to find the words to put voice to his thoughts. Hank meant it. He'd known that all along, but to actually hear him say that—to hear _anyone_ say they loved him and mean it—he wasn't sure what to do with that. Heaven knew he felt the same. He spent half his time away from the mansion because he couldn't get the other off his mind and he really didn't trust his self-control. Havok finally managed to speak again, "G-god, Hank. I-I love you too. And...I...I want you too, I'm just terrified of hurting you. I don't want that to happen. I-I, you trust me that much?" His voice quavered on the question, hardly daring to believe that.

Hank blinked at him and leaned forward to rest their foreheads together. "Of course I do," he said. "If I have to figure out... some reverse adaptor or something to make you feel better, I can. I know you're scared, and I am too—though not of you hurting me." He paused. "I love you," he said again, testing the words.

Alex swallowed hard, hearing those words again, "I-I love you too," the phrase sounded foreign to his ears, but somehow felt right. His hand came up to rest on Hank's cheek, "I-I...might feel better with that reverse adapter or what have you, but..." He shook his head, "You honestly think I wouldn't hurt you?"

"I swear it," the other replied solemnly.

The blond offered him a faint smile at that, "I...don't understand you, but...I really want to believe that I won't."

"I believe it," Hank replied. "I do." He ran a hand through Alex's hair. "If you need reassurance, or to do anything though, we'll figure that out."

Havok tilted his head into the touch, "I, that is, I don't think I'm going to have any better control for quite a while. I..." He finally shook his head, leaning in and kissing Hank.

Letting the other lead now, Hank leaned into the kiss, arms loosely settling around Alex's waist. Alex pressed into the kiss, slowly, one hand moving to rest on Hank's cheek while the other trailed down his side to rest just above his hip. Shifting, Hank hesitated before pulling him just a little closer, arms loose around the other's hips. Havok didn't pull away, but hesitated for a moment before deepening the kiss, the hand on Hank's cheek moving up to card through his headfur.

After a moment, Hank pulled back with a swallow. "Alex..."

The blond met Hank's eyes, "Y-yeah, Hank?"

"I don't mean to push," he murmured.

"You're not."

"Oh," he said, voice still quiet, hands making small circles on the other's back.

Alex arched his back slightly at the touch. He hesitated again before leaning in to kiss Hank. Returning the kiss again, Hank rolled over on his back, taking Alex with him, unsure still what he was supposed to do but enjoying it anyway. Havok's breath hitched at that as he went with the motion, his fingers combing through the fur on Hank's chest, one of them sliding down to the scientist's hip.

Grip turning more possessive, Hank pulled back for a breath. "Are you sure?" he asked. If Alex was going to pull away, he needed to do it now.

Alex drew a breath, "Hank, if you ask me one more time I'm going to lose my nerve and be unsure. Yes, I'm sure."

"Good," Hank breathed and didn't ask again.

X-X-X

Alex lay curled next to Hank, combing his fingers through the fur on his chest absently. His head rested on the other's shoulder, his eyes half-lidded.

"See?" Hank murmured, the sound rumbled in his chest through still slightly out of breath. "No hurt, I mean, you didn't hurt me."

"No. I didn't. But..." Alex shook his head, "No. I didn't."

"But?" Hank asked softly, hand on the small of Alex's back.

"Nothing," came the muted response.

"Alex," Hank soothed. "What's the matter?" His mind was still a little fuzzy around the edges in contentment.

The smaller man sighed, "But it doesn't mean I won't."

If he hadn't already been so content where he was, Hank might well have run his head into something then. "Alex," he started, shifting so he could meet the other's eyes. "But you haven't. I believe you won't."

Alex offered him a tired smile, "I know. And...I think I believe that too." He dropped his gaze to where his fingers were still tangling in Hank's fur, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it now."

Hank let out a puff of breath and nuzzled closer against Alex. Any other time the fact he was acting more like a cat than usual would have worried him, but now he just enjoyed moving closer to the other boy. "I could hurt you too," he murmured. "This body is much stronger. But we'll both be careful, alright?"

Alex nodded after a long moment, "Alright. W-we'll both be careful."

Shifting again, Hank rolled onto his side so he could wrap both arms around Alex, still nuzzling against him. "Love you."

Alex curled closer, resting his head under Hank's chin, "Love you too."

He let out a rumbling sound that was almost a laugh and half a purr.

Havok grinned at that, reaching one of his hands up to scratch Hank's ear, "I like it when you purr."

Hank grinned, several cheesy lines coming instantly to his mind. "I'm glad. You have me doing it so often after all."

"I like knowing you're happy," Alex ran his fingers through the silky fur again.

"I am," he replied. "Very happy."

"So am I," Alex murmured.

* * *

><p>... Victoriousscarf would like to point out here these muses are no longer doing what they're supposed to. Not entirely sure what to do with that. Hank was supposed to have his big speechlove confession and spend the next 3 months convincing Alex this was going to be a good plan. Instead, this happened.

Meadowlark here: I was also expecting a lot more persuasion needed on Hank's part. Alex took one look at it and went "He said he loved me, meant it, and isn't scared of me for God only knows what reason. To hell with your plans." And here we have given you the end result of that rebellion.

Cheers all, and thank you everyone for the wonderful feedback we've been getting.


	25. Only Telling the Literal Truth

_November 22, 1963_

Warren was sitting on the front staircase of the mansion, wings spread out, fiddling with the latest letter from home. Nothing important was in it, and it looked like his father's secretary had typed it for him to sign. If it had been a warmer November day, he would be out flying, but as it was his wings got cold in this weather. He wondered if he could get McCoy in his lab to figure something out.

Snapping his head up at a knock on the door, he frowned, unsure if he should answer. It thundered through the house again and he rose, cracking the door open and just poking his head through, wings folded along his back. "Yes?"

A slender woman with black hair, blue eyes and two scars at either outer corner of her eyes, offered him an enigmatic smile, "Good day. My name is Sage, this is Bishop," she motioned to the man beside her, "We're here to speak with Professor Charles Xavier. Is he in today?" Her gaze scanned over Warren's face, quickly categorizing him, his gift, and its benefits according to information she already had.

"I believe he is," Warren said with a blink, taking in the man beside her. He towered over his female companion, a large M stamped over his right eye. His arms were crossed over his chest and his tight uniform only showed off how many muscles he had. Swallowing, Warren turned back to the women. "What would you like with him?"

"We simply wish to speak with him," came the response. "It is a matter of some urgency, though. And we haven't much time to wait, Mr...?" She left the name hanging, though more than able to fill in the name. His appearance was far too much like a younger version of his well-known father to be mistaken for someone else.

"Warren," he said. "And honestly, you guys look like assassins, you know that right?"

The larger man looked caught between snorting in amusement and being deeply offended. "Have you seen the news today?" he asked, voice deep.

"No?" Warren offered.

"Then don't joke about such things," Bishop replied. "Now may we please see your professor."

"Wait here," Warren said and closed the door in their faces, running off to see Charles.

Charles looked up from where his gaze was focused on the news report, his body still and his mind intentionally blank, closing off from his students' minds and emotions as the news repeated what was known. President John F. Kennedy had been shot and killed. The professor reached out with his mind, carefully, to contact Warren before the boy reached the room. _What is it, Warren?_

Warren entered the room to see Erik rising from the couch. He still was uncomfortable with the Professor's mental communication and preferred speaking to him face to face. "There's two people at the door asking for you and—what's up?" he asked, looking from everyone's faces, including Erik's which was completely stony.

Charles reached out, finding he couldn't touch the minds of the people at the door, though there was a vague contact with one of them. He drew back and glanced at Erik, _They're shielded._ "Sit down, Warren. There's...been a shooting."

Sean looked up from where he was seated on the floor, his arms wrapped around his legs which were drawn up to his chest, "President Kennedy's been shot." His voice was distant, like he couldn't believe what he was saying.

Warren looked at all of them, sinking down next to Sean. "But, he's the president," he said, voice small. "How can he be shot?"

_I should go,_ Erik replied, meeting Charles' eyes. _There are things I will have to deal with._ His mind felt as cold and determined as his eyes had been moments before, retreating to hide his shock.

Charles looked up at him, _Be careful, Erik, please._

Alex answered quietly from his seat on the couch, "He's only human, Warren."

Swallowing, Erik leaned down to kiss the top of Charles' head. _I always am_, he replied, before turning to leave, slipping out the back.

"But," Warren protested again. "Why would anyone want to shoot him?"

"We don't know yet," Hank replied, leaning a bit closer to Alex without thinking about it, but not touching him.

"Well," Warren said, gathering his wits slightly, though his eyes were still on the screen. "Those people are still at the door."

Charles nodded, "I'll go see to our unexpected guests." He rolled his chair out of the room, making sure the door was mostly closed behind him, and went to the foyer to answer the door.

He looked up at the two people on his front steps and motioned them inside, "I am Professor Xavier. What can I do for the two of you?"

Bishop stepped inside first, looking around the mansion in some small version of awe, as if he could hardly believe the opulence around him, before he shook his head. Focusing on Charles he frowned slightly at his appearance.

Sage entered behind Bishop, her gaze calculating as she looked over the interior of the mansion, closing the door behind her, "Is there somewhere we might speak in private?"

Charles nodded slightly, "My study." He turned his chair and led the way there, glancing back at them a couple of times, "I don't believe Warren mentioned your names."

"Bishop," the large man said and waved to his female companion. "And Sage. You are not what I was expecting, Professor Xavier." An image that looked like it could have been out of a history text of a bald and older man floated to the top of his mind.

Charles picked up the image, the first he'd gotten from either of them and managed a weak laugh, any other day it would have been far less forced, "Goodness, I do hope that's not an image that I put forth. I'm hardly thirty, Bishop." He pushed open the door to the study and motioned to the chairs near the fireplace, one further from the chess table than the other, "Have a seat, if you will?"

Bishop forcibly clamped down on his mind at that, frowning. He sat down, still looking to Sage to lead the conversation. While clearly working under his own choice, it was also clear that here at the least he was content to let her lead.

Sage settled down in the other chair, turning her attention to Charles, disregarding formalities, "We're here to speak to you in regards to Magneto."

Charles frowned slightly at that, starting to close off at that, "And why would that be?"

"We know you've had dealings with him in the past," the young woman responded simply.

"Then you're mistaken. I have not had dealings, as you say, with Magneto."

Sage's eyes narrowed as she considered, "I see. Then you do not consider your time spent with Erik Lehnsherr dealings with Magneto?"

The young professor met her gaze steadily, "Speak clearly or you're wasting all of our times."

"We spoke to Agent MacTaggart. Considering that you lied to her about your lack of power, I do rather wonder how much else you lied to her about," Sage answered, her blue eyes cold.

Xavier's lips pursed, "I have spoken with Herr Lehnsherr, yes. And we worked together prior to the missile crisis last year, but no. I have not had dealings with Magneto."

"You're a fan of only telling the literal truth, aren't you?" Bishop remarked, his arms still folded over his chest.

Charles glanced at him, "What other truth is there? You two still haven't answered my question of why you've arrived on my front step, today of all days."

"I have," Sage corrected. "It is because of your past dealings with Magneto."

The telepath's jaw tightened at that, "Surely you don't think he had something to do with what happened."

"We have no proof his group didn't. It would make sense after Kennedy's military tried to kill him on the beach during the crisis with Russia," Bishop replied.

Charles glanced between them, knowing he would tip his hand if he said anything further, but finally spoke, "Erik had nothing to do with the assassination."

Sage's brow arched, "Oh? How do you know?"

"To begin with? It's more underhanded than he tends toward. For another? If he had he would have been there to oversee it," the telepath shook his head at that thought, having closed the mental link for the time being.

"How do you know he wasn't there to oversee it?" Bishop pressed quietly, voice calm as he watched the other. Miles away Erik tensed as he realized the bond was closed.

Charles drew a deep breath, sending a brief sense of reassurance to Erik before closing the link again and answering, "Because he's been with me for the last twenty-four hours."

Bishop blinked once at that. "Erik Lehnsherr has been here the past twenty-four hours?" he asked though his voice was still flat.

Sage arched a single eyebrow, "I suppose that explains the unfinished chess game. I thought you said you had no dealings with Magneto."

"I don't." Charles responded, evenly, "He leaves anything of that sort at the door. And, yes, he has been here for the last twenty-four hours, give or take an hour or two on the arrival side. You can ask any of the students. He was here until the two of you showed up."

"How can a terrorist leave everything at the door?" Bishop asked, paused, and shook his head. "What was he doing here?"

"He doesn't tell me and I don't ask. I can assume, but I don't deal with that side of him," came the answer. It made sense in Charles' mind if in no one else's. "As to what he was doing here...I don't actually consider that your business."

Sage frowned, "You're harboring a known terrorist and you don't consider the reason of his stay here to be our concern?"

"No. I don't."

"You're rather arrogant," Bishop remarked, glancing at Sage and back to him. "So you claim he had nothing to do with President Kennedy's assassination then?"

"I do claim that. Now, if there's nothing else?" He glanced toward the door.

"Actually, there is something else," Sage spoke again. "Agent MacTaggart mentioned you were forming a school?"

A frown settled across Charles' features, but he nodded, "Yes, that's correct."

"We would like to... be a part of that," Bishop said finally. "Helping other mutants."

One eyebrow arched sharply at that, "And what makes you think I would ever even consider the two of you for that? You come to my home, uninvited, toss Moira's name around, accuse a good friend of mine of assassinating the president and then expect me to welcome you on board?"

"Because, Charles Francis Xavier," Sage replied, "under that indignation, you know you can't form this school alone. You have Dr. Henry McCoy and yourself as teachers, but beyond that you've no one to teach the students. The two of you handle academics well, and you even have some promise when it comes to training their abilities. Bishop and I have the experience of training young mutants in their gifts."

Something very dark passed behind Bishop's eyes. "Experience helping young mutants come to terms with being such," he added quietly.

Charles looked from one to the other, "I haven't much choice in this matter, do I?"

"You always have a choice, but your ability to persuade us to do otherwise isn't as strong since you can't implant the inclination in our minds," Sage responded coldly.

"I don't even know your real names," Came his next response.

"Tessa. But do not use that one."

"Bishop is my name," he replied. "At least, my last one. Do you really need a name to trust a person?"

"I never said anything about trust, Bishop. I don't trust the two of you, and I highly doubt I will, but you're right in stating that I do need assistance in helping and teaching at the school."

"Which we can give. We have experience and the desire to do so. How many students do you have?" Bishop asked.

"Currently? Three, though technically Alex is only a student as regards his gift. I am in the process of using Cerebro to locate others, but with only myself and the four young men downstairs, my ability to contact those I find is limited."

Bishop blinked in surprise. "There are only five of you living here? You've been moving quite slowly, haven't you?"

"Considering the school's been legally accredited for only a month and a half, and Cerebro hasn't been working for all that long? We're doing what we can. I'm rather restricted in how much I can do on my own," he motioned to the chair.

Sage looked decidedly unimpressed at that, "Well, regardless, that will need to start changing. As I'm sure you're aware of, there are more mutants manifesting every day, and a good portion of them have powers not unlike Mr. Summers'."

Charles' gaze snapped over to her, "How do you know about his power?"

"I have a mind that remembers everything I see and hear and can recall it at will, far more rapidly than an average human."

"Not to mention the ability to gather more information than anyone wants her to find," Bishop said, voice a little fond.

Charles looked from one to the other, nodding slightly, "I see. And you Bishop? What is your gift?"

"I absorb and reuse forms of energy," he said, not quite realizing what a sore point a power such as that was going to be in the mansion.

Charles paled at that, "That is...quite the gift."

Bishop frowned at the other's pallor. "Is there a problem?"

The telepath looked at him for a long moment, "Tell me. Have you heard of a man known as Sebastian Shaw?"

Sage searched her memory for the name, coming across bits and pieces and beginning to piece it together, but still not seeing the full severity of it, "I know the name. He ran the Hellfire Club, did he not?"

"Until his death last year, yes."

Bishop leaned further back into the chair. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"He was an energy converter as well. He used it to keep himself young. In the end he intended to use it to spark nuclear war. On a more personal level he used it to turn Alex Summers' gift against the first and closest friend that young man had since his release from prison." Charles kept his tone clinical.

The African American glanced over at Sage, not quite swearing. "I cannot use my gift to keep myself young," he said. "It works on a different level. If you have more information on Shaw's power, I might be interested in taking a look at it. The CIA did not seem to have a file on him."

"No, I don't suppose they would. It was never returned to them as far as I know. I will see what I can let you know about him, but I ask that you use caution when using or mentioning your gift around the students. Warren is new enough to know little or nothing of it, but the other three..." Charles shook his head.

"It is a sensitive issue," Bishop summarized. "I shall see to treat it carefully."

The professor inclined his head in gratitude, "Now, I suppose it is best if I were to introduce you to the others."

Nodding, Bishop rose, standing next to Sage.

Charles led the way back to the front parlor where the four students had finally shut off the news. He sent a warning ahead for Warren and Hank's sake should they choose to hide their appearance.

By the time they entered, Hank had the image inducer on, but Warren had stubbornly kept out his wings, jaw tense as a result.

Charles glanced around the room before speaking, "I'd like to introduce you all to Bishop and Sage. They will be staying on and helping with the school."

Alex eyed them warily from where he'd moved to the other end of the couch from Hank, but didn't say anything. Sean tilted his head slightly to one side before murmuring a greeting.

Bishop inclined his head to both of them, looking over in slight surprise at Warren's wings. Well, the reason the other had never opened the door was apparent. He cleared this throat. "It is good to meet all of you," he said.

"And you," Sean answered.

Sage glanced around, "I don't believe we have anyone's name besides Warren's?"

The red-head spoke again, "Sean Cassidy."

Shifting from the far side of the couch from Alex, Hank nodded. "Henry McCoy," he said, aware that their little circle was doubtful to survive this the way it had been.

Sage's eyes lit slightly at that, "Dr. McCoy? I read your thesis, it made several interesting points I hadn't thought of before. Far advanced from what I had been expecting, in all honesty."

Hank's neck moved back at that as he considered the women in shock. "Y-you read my thesis? No one reads my thesis."

"I did. I found it to be a well thought out and examined argument. It was very well done." She glanced at Alex who had remained silent.

He answered the unasked question, quietly with a tone that Hank at least would recognize as the one he'd used back when they'd originally shown one another their powers at the CIA base, a tone he reserved for people he didn't want to trust and things he didn't want to share, "Alex Summers."

Hank glanced over at Alex when Bishop frowned at the cold reaction. The scientist wanted to move over, stand behind Alex's shoulder and offer him support, but with strangers there the thought was more terrifying.

Sean's gaze darted to Bishop and then to Sage, "So if you're working with the school, you're mutants too?"

"Yes," Bishop said, and Warren found himself looking at that M over his eye.

"That why you have that tattoo?" he chirped and Bishop's entire body tensed.

Sage glanced at her partner, her answer for him clipped and indicating a topic that was off-limits to all, "Yes."

Warren's eyes widened and he scooted closer to Sean to use him as a shield. "Alright."

Sean glanced at the winged mutant before looking at the two new arrivals, "What do you do?"

"I have a photographic memory with rapid recall, and the ability to sense others gifts," Sage answered, earning and arched eyebrow from Charles who hadn't heard about the second bit.

Hank shifted at that, unsure how a person could sense his gifts, and whether that sense went through his disguise or not. "What do you two plan on doing here?" he asked.

"We're here to help Professor Xavier to teach you all and any incoming students how to use your powers and to help you as difficulties arise," She glanced from one to the next, mentally cataloging what sort of work would need to be done for each likely.

Hank frowned slightly, glancing at Charles as if checking that he was alright with this.

Charles nodded very slightly, his expression neutral as he clarified, "Sage and Bishop will be able to assist a bit more with the hands on training of your gifts than I am currently able to."

Hank nodded at that, accepting it though he curled up against the back of the couch.

Glancing over at his partner, Bishop suppressed a sigh. Sage shook her head very slightly, this was going to take a lot of work.

Charles spoke softly, "I have some business to attend to, if all of you are alright?" His gaze moved to his students. Sean shrugged and then nodded while Alex shrugged, his gaze focused on the pattern of the wood paneling and his mind mostly closed off.

Hank and Warren had both nodded. Looking over Bishop, Warren was considering calling a retreat more than anything. With a glance at the two newcomers, and a mental note to Hank that if they needed him he'd be in the study, the professor left and finally re-opened his link with Erik.

_What happened?_ was the immediate question.

_The new arrivals were asking questions about you. I needed a little bit more concentration, since I can't get past either of their shields._

Miles away, Erik paused as he entered the room that was his office. _You couldn't get past their shields?_

Charles drew the door to his study closed, mentally shaking his head, _No. I couldn't. I didn't try as hard as I might as I didn't want to risk detection, but I couldn't get in._

_Well, what did they want?_ Erik asked, sitting down at his chair and leaning his elbows on the desk.

_They're going to be staying on to help train the students._ Charles reply held a note of long-suffering.

There was a long pause on the other end. _What are they like?_

_Enigmatic. Sure of themselves. Perhaps a bit more official than I care for. She also knows more than I like, but that's as much do to what she can do as anything._

Erik frowned slightly at that. _Why did they come?_

_They...came to ask about you. Especially in light of what happened in Texas this afternoon._

Erik's snarl could just about be felt through the bond. _They thought I did that? Why did they go to you about it?_

Charles sighed, rubbing his temples, _They thought it was a possibility. They came to me for the same reason Moira did months back-our history. And the fact that they had spoken to her and knew I was lying as regards the loss of my gift._

Erik rubbed a hand over his eyes. _And they intend to stick around?_

_Unfortunately. They..._ he hesitated, _they know you weren't behind the assassination._

There was another pause. _What did you tell them?_ Erik asked, not angry but just curious.

_Simply that you had been with me for the last twenty four hours or so._

Erik processed, sending affection across the bond at that. _So they are aware I was there and that our history is not in any textbooks yet?_

Charles responded with a similar emotion, though it was twined with a thread of concern, _Yes, they are._ The thought of textbooks brought the image from Bishops mind to the forefront of his own, _I'm...not entirely certain what to make of them._

Erik touched the image with a slight frown. _He thought that of you? Do you know if they stay around what we are going to do?_

_I have no idea what we'll do should they stay for any long period of time. We will have to figure that out. It's not as though I can shield us from them since I have no access to their minds. We will figure it out, though. We've made it this far, this is simply another difficulty is all._

_Yes,_ Erik agreed. _We've gone past much worse._

_I love you, Erik._

A surge of affection was felt through the bond as Erik curled around the thought. _And I you._

Charles smiled softly at that, affection and trust weaving through the bond.

Erik reached along the bond, holding it close for a warm moment before pulling back. _I must work._

The telepath sighed, _I need to as well. Take care, Erik._

_Always,_ came the warm response and Erik turned his attention away, without shutting off the bond.

X-X-X

Raven knocked on the door to Erik's office.

Glancing up, Erik motioned the door to open, having long ago changed the lock so only his powers could open it. "Raven," he greeted.

"Erik. I assume you've seen the news today?" She entered, closing the door behind her.

"Yes," he replied. "I have assured Charles at least we had nothing to do with it." He paused a beat. "Unless Azazel has something to tell me."

The shifter shook her head, "No, he's been here the entire day."

"Good," he said, shaking his head. "Do we have any idea what this might mean?"

"Well, I suppose that depends on what they say about it in the upcoming days. The change of presidents will likely mean a policy change, which could either be very good or very bad, or it could stay exactly as it has been for us. It's really too early to say."

He nodded. "We simply sit and wait then. Cancel any plans we had, moving now might tip the scale."

Raven nodded, "Very well. I'll let the others know. Is there anything else?"

He paused for a moment, looking her over. "It's been a year," he said, voice musing. "You seem to talk much less now."

She blinked at him for a moment at that, "I hadn't noticed. I suppose I haven't had much to say really." _Or people to say it to._

A frown creased between Erik's brows. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"What for?"

"Taking you away from Charles," he replied. "Your own choice or not."

"You don't have to apologize for that, Erik. I chose to come and he chose to let me go. He could have asked me to stay, but he didn't."

"Still," Erik sighed and shrugged. "I feel like we're missing something."

"Cohesion. Some sort of inclination to get along, though that's...probably me projecting."

"Yes, that sounds about right," he said. "All of it. Do you have any particular problems with our companions?"

She shrugged, "Not really? Azazel still startles me, and Riptide's quiet enough I don't interact much with him. But no, no real problems with either of them."

"Alright," Erik said, leaning back. He really had no idea how to make people function together as a team. He was too used to being on his own.

"What are your thoughts about them?"

"Azazel is brutal but efficient. I'm not sure what to make of him personally. Riptide? I'm not sure I even know his real name," Erik mused. "He is quiet but even more efficient." He could think of little more than ways to describe their fighting styles.

She looked at him for a long moment, "I see."

Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, I talk to them even less."

Raven nodded very slightly, "It might not go amiss to maybe even simply have a single drink with us once in a while."

"Us?" he asked. "You associate yourself with them? Not that I might but I am surprised."

"Once in a while. Enough to know at least that Azazel worked for others before his last employer. And enough to know that Riptide prefers his martini's dry, and classic. It's not much, but it is something."

Erik managed a soft laugh. "That information about Riptide might save someone's life someday. How many of those does he drink in a day anyway?"

"More than one would think a body could handle," she answered dryly. "I'm not entirely sure that metabolizing those without ill-effects isn't his secondary mutation."

"That would be most fascinating to find out," Erik remarked, shaking his head. "Alright. Later tonight we shall need to meet and discuss our next move. Possibly over drinks."

Raven inclined her head, "Very well. I'll see you then. Good afternoon, Erik."

"Afternoon," he replied amiably.

She slipped out of his office, considering where to go and finally opting for a location less private than her own room.

* * *

><p>Hope you all enjoyed the chapter!<p>

A note about Bishop: Some of you may know him, and some may not. His power is basically the same as Shaw's, and that's because they gave Movie!Shaw Comic!Bishop's powers. It creates a bit of a problem since we want to use Bishop ((and clearly are)) but we are sticking to his canon. Mutants in comic verse sometimes end up with variations of the same power, and also keeping Bishop's powers as they are creates some tension between him and those that once fought Shaw. Thus, they're keeping the same power and we'll see how it plays out.

Thank you for all the feedback, we really do appreciate hearing even a couple of words about your thoughts on the chapter.


	26. Like Fine Wine or Good Chocolate

_November 23, 1963_

The next morning found Bishop standing outside the mansion, the four younger men in front of him. "Have any of you ever fought?" he asked, looking between them. Hank glanced at Alex and Sean; Warren was the only one who shook his head quickly.

Alex glanced at the other two, "I assume you mean using our powers?"

"Even a battle situation," Bishop replied.

"Once." The blond answered. Sean nodded his agreement.

"Just once?" Bishop asked in surprise.

Sean nodded again, "Yes...just once."

"What have you been doing the last year?" the African American gaped.

"Living lives as close to normal as we can get," Alex answered, his tone edging toward surly.

Hank's eyes had darkened somewhat, still wearing the image inducer.

Sean glanced from one to the other and then back to Bishop, "You sound surprised."

"Well, while Magneto's forces have been wrecking pain and suffering you're implying you've been sitting her and doing, as far as I can tell nothing."

Something that might have been a growl rolled out of Hank. "We have hardly been doing that. We're untrained and our leader was shot in the spine. Besides a physical recovery, we had to attempt to put together a school while dealing with being mutants. I'm sorry, since you're clearly military, but we are trying to build a school, not fight a war."

Alex glanced at Hank at the growl. It wasn't a sound he was used to hearing and it startled him briefly, but Hank had a legitimate point. Sean, on the other hand, eyed Hank and took a subtle step to the side away from him, knowing Hank had a decent rein on his temper usually, but still recalling the cat-like claws the other mutant had even if they weren't currently visible under the illusion the scientist wore. The redhead spoke, "Something tells me you intend to remedy the lack of training anyhow. You just know you're working with less than you thought originally is all."

Bishop had flat out taken a step back at the growl. There was no way the slight but tall boy in front of him should have been able to make such a sound, especially since as far as he knew the other's power was speed. "Alright," he said warily. "We'll start then."

"Besides," Hank muttered, realizing he'd growled with the image inducer on. "Our last instructor abandoned us on a beach with no way off. You'll have to excuse me for being distrustful."

Alex eyed Bishop for a long moment, "I don't think you ever said what you can do. I know Sage did yesterday."

Bishop shifted, not really wanting to get growled at again. "I can absorb different forms of energy and redirect them," he replied evenly.

Alex immediately fell silent and started shutting off further. Sean's eyes widened and he glanced from Hank to Alex and back, "That's..."

Honestly, Hank was just about to growl again at that, straining toward Alex and wanting to reassure. "I am aware you have a... bad history with powers of this sort," Bishop managed finally.

Sean shook his head, "Either the prof told you half of it or you're the master of the understatement."

"I can hardly help my powers," he said, in protestation.

Sean nodded, "True." He glanced at Hank and then at Alex. The blond was rather solidly focusing on the grass at his feet and refusing to meet anyone's eyes, but he finally shrugged, his acknowledgement of the truth of that statement.

"Well, this has been enlightening," Hank said briskly. "We can continue this later," he added and Bishop didn't protest as Hank touched Alex's arm lightly and inclined his head to the mansion.

Alex startled slightly as he came out of his reverie, instinctively pulling back from the touch before he registered that it was Hank. He met the other's eyes and then nodded, entering the mansion Glancing back once more at Bishop, Hank followed, unsure whether to lead to a room or the bunker. Alex glanced toward the hall that would lead toward the bunker and instead took the stairs two at a time to head to his own room.

Once they were gone, Bishop glanced at Sean and Warren who had all but been hiding behind the red head. "I'm aware of what I did to bother Summers, but what was with McCoy?"

"We're all a bit protective of each other," Sean answered. "Hank's a bit more so." _Of Alex_ he finished silently.

"He growled," Bishop said, arching a brow slightly. "That I did not expect, mutant or not."

"He's...more than he appears," Sean answered. Why did he always end up having to deal with the questions he really didn't want to answer?

Bishop blinked. "I am not part of this," Warren muttered and took off into the air, wings flapping.

Sean turned to stop him, but scowled as he realized the younger boy really had every right to take off. He turned back to Bishop, "Hank's got a couple of levels to his mutation."

"A couple," Bishop dead panned and wondered why Sage hadn't told him—or picked it up. "I know he's intelligent, but I know more that he has super speed. Neither of which lends itself to growling."

"And strength. And stamina," Sean supplied. "He...had abnormal looking feet last year and set about trying to find a way to allow himself to look fully normal without losing his abilities. It backfired."

"He looks perfectly normal."

"He's not. He's a brilliant scientist. The appearance you see now is him pre-beach. He hasn't looked like that without the help of a complex illusion in over a year."

Bishop blinked. "So... that's not what he looks like?" He didn't even comment on Sean's term "pre-beach" though he figured it was important.

"No. He's actually gotten bigger. And...well, bluer. And...furrier. All in all, more feline."

That got Bishop's eyes to widen, distorting the M on his eye. "...Oh."

"Yeah. He's...usually pretty chill."

"Oh," Bishop said again. "Thank you for that information."

"You're welcome. Don't tell him I told you. He'll let you both know when he feels ready to."

"Right, of course," Bishop nodded. "I understand."

Sean glanced around, "So since the others have left, can I go?"

Bishop nodded and motioned with his hands to shoo him back to the mansion. Sean took off with a sigh of relief.

X-X-X

Inside the mansion, Hank had hesitated at the staircase before quietly padding after Alex.

Alex was curled on his bed with his back to the door, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. Hesitating again outside the door way, Hank entered and closed the door, coming over to the bed and sitting himself down as quietly as he could. Alex lay there for a long moment before finally turning over so he could look up at Hank, "I..."

"I know—well, I can guess," Hank said quietly, reaching forward carefully to pet Alex's hair before pulling his hand back.

The younger man reached up to stop Hank from pulling his hand all the way away. Shifting forward, Hank went back to smoothing down the other's hair, letting him talk if and when he needed to. "I-I...God, Hank. This wasn't supposed to be possible again."

"We have no idea if his powers work like Shaw's did," he soothed quietly. "No idea which sort of power he absorbs."

"But it realistically could happen again, Hank!" Alex's gaze sought reassurance.

Hank swallowed, cupping his cheek. "It could," he admitted. "But it won't."

The blond leaned into the touch, "Can you turn off the image inducer?"

Hank blinked, having forgotten it and complied. "It's going to be alright, Alex."

"I-I know. It just doesn't feel that way right now..." He hesitated for a long moment, before taking Hank's hand and tugging for him to lay down next to him.

Shifting, Hank had to move Alex slightly more to the side before he could fit, gathering him up in his arms. "You're going to be fine," he murmured.

Alex curled closer, resting head against Hank's chest, "I-I know." Pausing for a moment, Hank consciously tried to purr, still petting Alex's hair. The smaller man let his eyes close, trying to relax and focusing on Hank's purr. He felt some of the fear and tenseness fade away and found himself growing slightly drowsy, "Thank you, Hank."

The larger nodded, unsure how to actually say you're welcome to something like that. "You're going to be just fine," he repeated. "We all are, alright?"

Alex nodded, "Alright."

_November 30, 1963_

Warren perched himself on a low hanging tree branch, ruffling his wings behind him. By this time he'd explored all that Xavier's lands could provide him with, but the joy of actually flying in the day whenever he liked-sometimes in the middle of a lecture to the Professor's annoyance—was not a feeling he was ever going to get used to. He ruffled his wings again happily.

Sean strolled over to the foot of the tree and looked up, "There you are." He was bundled up in a winter coat against the chill in the air. "Sage is looking at us for tactics or something like that."

"Don't care about tactics," was the reply that floated down.

"It's that or another training session with Bishop. She wanted to make sure we were clear on those options. She's also implying said training session's more on survival in this weather after dark."

Warren poked his head down through the brush. "You're kidding."

Sean shook his head, arms wrapped tightly around him, "Nope. And we're supposed to get the first light snowfall of the year tonight."

Warren made an annoyed sound and finally flittered down. "You know what I said about us needing more girls? I did not mean her."

Sean nodded his agreement, "I hear you there. I think we need more girls. Sane ones."

"Non-taken ones too," Warren muttered. "Did you notice her and Bishop have rooms next to each other?"

"Yeah, knowing the Prof, he decided it was easier than asking." Sean shook his head, "I don't see it."

"Them or not asking?"

"Them. I just don't get it. Then again I have the same reaction to everyone's choice of... significant other in this place."

"We have got to get some non crazy, non taken girls," Warren muttered, shaking his head.

"I am completely with you on that one." They finally reached the mansion and Sean opened the door, shrugging out of his coat and hanging it up. "I think we're meeting in the front parlor."

Warren made a sound of annoyance and ruffled his wings before tucking them behind his back so he wouldn't run them into anything.

_December 6,1963_

Verging on two weeks after Sage and Bishop appeared at the mansion, Hank woke up earlier than he usually did. For a moment he just considered Alex before deciding to go down and make coffee in the morning for once. Padding down the hallway, he entered the kitchen, one of the places besides the lab he felt relatively secure in. Humming quietly he turned the coffee on.

A few minutes later, Sage pushed the door to the kitchen open, conversing with Bishop, "...So I'll likely be heading out at the end of this week for a couple of days, just long enough to locate the new st—" She broke off and her brows arched, her eyes widening at the sight of Hank, sans image inducer.

Hank turned, not quite registering that fact. "Oh, good mor—" he blinked, blinked again, and glanced down, realizing he'd forgotten something.

Bishop stopped behind Sage and paused for a long moment. Sage cleared her expression, murmuring, "Well, I knew it was cosmetic."

Alex entered, already talking as Sage caught the door, "Hank, you forgot your—" He broke off his gaze flickering to Sage and Bishop and he lowered the image inducer, half-hiding it behind his back.

"Yes," Hank said, looking at Alex and just barely not managing to wince. "Good morning," he said to the room in general.

"Huh," Bishop managed, tilting his head. "Well, that makes more sense now."

Sage looked from one of the young men to the other, nodding slightly, "Quite a bit."

Alex grimaced and moved over, setting the image inducer down near Hank. "This is why I make the coffee in the morning," he muttered.

Hank gave him a half panicked look. "Yes," he agreed again and shrugged slightly. "Well, I suppose it was inevitable they noticed."

Blinking once, Bishop didn't mention there might be more than one thing.

The blond nodded, moving to find something to eat, "Yeah, you would have had to let them in on it at some point."

Sage's brow arched and she glanced at Bishop, filing Hank and Alex's body-language away with the rest of the interactions between them that she'd seen. Sharing her look, Bishop shrugged slightly, smiling faintly.

Hank meanwhile was moving around Alex to finish the coffee and fish down plates and the beginnings of a more general breakfast. "Eggs?" he offered the room in general.

"Eggs sound very good, thank you," Sage replied.

"Great," Hank muttered, knowing how Alex took his eggs and getting started on that.

Sage glanced at Bishop before speaking again, "Charles has located another potential student. I'm to go meet her. Hank, I was wondering if you would be willing to come along?"

Alex just about dropped one of the glasses he was getting down from the cupboards. Turning his head to glance at Alex for a moment Hank turned back to her. "Me? Where is the student?"

"England. Not too far outside of London," she answered simply.

Alex scowled at that, but just turned his attention to pouring some orange juice, glancing at Hank to see if he wanted any. Hank's eyes got a little starry at the thought of England, but he glanced quickly at Alex and swallowed, motioning slightly for the orange juice if the other wouldn't mind.

The blond nodded, relaxing when he saw Hank's eyes light up at the thought of that trip. He poured a second glass, glancing at Sage and Bishop, but opted to just leave it out for them if they wanted any.

"How long?" Hank asked, glancing back at Sage, still somewhat surprised she had asked him. Honestly, he had no idea how to exactly go about traveling on a commercial plane.

"We leave at the end of the week. Charles was planning to call ahead, so likely three days? From leaving the airport to getting back I mean."

Glancing at Alex again, Hank nodded. "Are you really sure you want me on a plane? It would be awkward if anyone ran into me."

She shrugged, "It's more that I'd like you there to speak with the new student and her parents. Professor Xavier mentioned you were one of the two who went to bring Warren here."

Alex glanced at him, offering him a faint smile, but mostly hiding it behind his glass of orange juice. He might consider talking about what was bugging him later.

"Alright," Hank said, glad his ears weren't entirely catlike or one of them would have been swiveled toward Alex. He finished making the eggs quickly, really wanting to get Alex to himself for a minute to talk.

Bishop seemed pleased to have eggs put in front of him, even if Hank's motions were still a little abrupt. Alex picked up a plate of eggs, offering Hank a faint smile again before slipping out of the kitchen to find somewhere else to eat. Sage watched him go, one eyebrow arching again as she settled at the kitchen table with Bishop.

Hank glanced between them and Alex, and offering a quick salutation to them, followed Alex.

Alex had settled in the dining room. It was chilly in there, being a room that rarely saw actual use and so was rarely heated. He wasn't really eating, mostly just stirring the eggs around on his plate and nibbling at them a bit. He glanced up as Hank entered and actually turned his attention to looking like he was eating.

"You're not actually eating, are you?" Hank asked, plopping down beside him.

"Hm? Of course I am," he took a bite to emphasize the point.

Hank sighed softly. "Alex, what's the matter?"

"I'm being paranoid. What else is new?"

With another soft sigh, Hank shifted a bit closer. "Maybe nothing. What are you paranoid about then?"

Alex shook his head, "It doesn't matter, Hank. Really, I'm fine."

"Of course you are. I still want to hear this," Hank said, leveling him with a long look.

He grimaced, "I don't like planes. I don't trust them. The last one either of us was in is now shrapnel."

That brought Hank up short for a moment, before leaning forward and resting his forehead against Alex's shoulder. "We survived. All of us."

Alex glanced at him, tilting his head to rest his cheek on the top of Hank's head briefly, "I know. I told you, I'm just being paranoid. I've never liked planes."

Hank rumbled, not quite purring. "It'll be fine."

Alex managed a bit of a smile, "You'd better come back."

"Oh, of that I have every intention of doing," Hank said, offering him a return smile. "Not sure what could keep me away."

"Besides only having three days in the homeland of Shakespeare, Milton, Byron, and the lot?" Alex grinned slightly at him.

Hank's mouth twisted, but affectionately. "Alright, five days—a month would make me happier, but I don't mind coming home early for you."

Alex offered him another grin, leaning over and kissing him fleetingly, "If we get the chance and the boat passage maybe someday we could go, the two of us?"

Hank's answering grin looked like Alex had asked him on a honeymoon. "Yes," he said, simply.

The blond listened for a moment and not hearing anyone in the hall leaned over and kissed the other again. Purring into the kiss for a moment Hank pulled back more quickly than he usually would. "I'd hate to be walked in on again," he murmured.

Alex made a soft sound of protest, but nodded, "Yeah...though I think we both needed more coffee before interacting in front of people earlier."

Hank laughed softly at that. "Well, they probably don't need to do what Warren and Sean did. I can only handle that once, thank you. But, it's not like we really have much more to do today..."

Alex grinned, "We probably should finish breakfast..."

"Right, yes, food, substance. You know, I've heard substance is good for you."

"There is that rumor going around."

Hank smiled, kissing him quickly and pulling back to pay attention to his eggs. Alex offered him another grin before turning most of his attention to his food. Finishing a little more quickly than usual, Hank whisked his plate and Alex's back to the kitchen, nodded at Sage and Bishop, and went to pick Alex back up from the dining room before heading for the stairs.

Alex laughed slightly, waiting until they were back in his room to turn and kiss Hank, one hand going to comb through the other's headfur. Wrapping his arms around the other's waist, Hank nuzzled into the kiss. Alex's other arm moved to wrap around Hank's waist, drawing him a bit closer. Purring, Hank pulled him closer still, feeling luckier than he could quite begin to explain to anyone else.

Alex moaned softly at that, pressing up into the kiss, the hand in Hank's hair moving to stroke one of his ears. The blond had to keep reminding himself this was in fact real, it was more than he'd hoped for. Hank made a happy noise at that. "I'm still surprised," he murmured into the kiss.

"With?" Alex's hand traced small circles on Hank's back.

"This," he said, hoping he didn't have to expand.

"Me too," came the reply. There wasn't any need, his own mind had been circling that thought.

"Happy though," Hank added with a smile.

"More than I thought possible," Alex replied, resting their foreheads together.

"I'm glad," Hank said. "I mean, besides everything else I'm fairly certain you're the only person who offered to take me somewhere books were of your own free will."

"You like books, and there are times where I like books. Mostly I like seeing the way you go into complete auto-pilot when you're around them, though," he grinned slightly.

"I go into auto-pilot?" Hank asked, still smiling.

"Sort of. Your eyes glaze over a little bit, at least around old books."

"Do my eyes ever glaze around you?" Hank asked, mostly joking.

Alex smirked, "Sometimes, but for a different reason."

Hank blinked for a moment and grinned, leaning in to kiss Alex again. The smaller man chuckled at that, leaning up into the kiss. Humming, Hank tilted his neck back. "You know, I could have done something productive this morning," he murmured. "But I think I'm happier with this."

"You said nothing needed to be done," Alex reminded. "I think I prefer this too."

"Nothing _needs_ to be done," Hank agreed. "I can take a day off."

Havok smirked at that, "Good to hear."

"Should indulge more often," Hank murmured, nuzzling against Alex's throat.

Alex tipped his head back to give the other better access, grinning a bit at the feel of his fur, "It certainly couldn't hurt to indulge from time to time."

"Like fine wine or good chocolate."

That earned a laugh, "Fine wine or good chocolate, huh?"

"With a good book."

Alex shook his head slightly and kissed Hank again at that. Purring again, Hank returned the kiss, running his hands down Alex's back. Alex arched at the touch, pressing himself almost flush against Hank. Still purring, Hank tilted his head further, hands stopping for a moment at Alex's hips before moving back up along his back. Alex pressed up against him, tugging slightly at his shirt hem. Hank grinned a little goofily into the kiss, pressing further against Alex and considering how close they were still to the door. At least Alex's floor was always clean.

"Bed?" Alex murmured when he drew back for a breath.

"I'm liking the sound of that plan," Hank replied against the other's mouth.

"Good," The blond pushed the other back toward the bed, his hands tracing up under Hank's shirt.

Crowding closer to the other, Hank tried to get his shirt off without ripping it, finding his way around the room. "I love you," he murmured.

Alex's breath hitched at that as he slipped out of his shirt, getting Hank's off as well, "I-I love you too."

"You still sound so surprised when I say that," Hank nuzzled against his shoulder.

"I'm still getting my head around it," he answered, finally getting to the bed, and pulling Hank down onto it with him.

"Oh," Hank managed, curling himself around him. "Well, I love you. I'll repeat it until it sticks if I have to."

"Maybe longer than that?" He leaned up to kiss the other, "I love you, Hank."

"Longer than that," Hank agreed, leaning down.

* * *

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	27. A Box of Kittens in the Kitchen

_December 12, 1963_

Hank glanced at Sage before knocking on the door. They had gotten into London the day before, and despite jet-leg Hank managed to see as many sites as he could manage. Now he was still exhausted, but happy and willing to see about recruiting a new student.

Sage looked up at him, "Remember what I said, try to keep your mind clear as much as possible for her sake. I have no idea how much control she's managed and I haven't the ability to shield others."

He glanced back at her and nodded. He'd gotten some instruction from Charles, and focused on one object from the museum he'd seen the day before, managing to dismiss all other side thoughts for once, trying to relax. It was hard for him, since he usually was thinking about eight different things at once but he'd been practicing.

Sage offered him a rare quirk of her lips that could be taken as a smile before turning back to the door as a butler opened it, "We're here from Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. We're expected."

The servant bowed, "If you'll follow me."

Hank glanced around, thinking vaguely all their mutants of late were rich, and this mansion was even better than the Worthington's. He tried to snap his thoughts back to the museum piece.

They were led through the halls to a small study near the back. Of the rooms they had passed this one seemed far less furnished than the others. Simplistic in comparison to the other chambers it was still elegantly decorated for the holiday season. Sir James Braddock rose to greet the guests, "Good day to you both, if you'll have a seat?" He glanced at the servant, "If you would be so good as to find Betsy."

The butler bowed and slipped away as Sage settled into one of the chairs the lord of the manor had indicated, looking surprisingly at her ease.

Hank settled on the edge of one of the chairs, back reaching further back than it should have. That was why he'd chosen a relatively large armchair.

"I assume you've both been told of my daughter's gift?"

"Yes," Hank agreed. "We are well aware of her talents."

"I'm glad to hear it." He glanced from one to the other, "And you think you can help her control it?"

Sage nodded, "I'm certain Charles Xavier has spoken with you. He too had to deal with psionic powers at a young age."

"And we are well equipped to help her, as well as giving her a supportive place in which to grow these talents. Not, that this would not be supportive for her, but we can help train her as well."

Sir James nodded, "I've spoken with her and her mother. We've decided it would be a good idea for her to come to your school, at least long enough for her to get a handle on her powers."

There was a soft tapping on the study door, Sage tilting her head in that direction in confusion. A moment later two teens, probably not more than fourteen entered. The girl's blue eyes swept over the two strangers, a touch connecting with both their minds. She brushed her dyed violet hair away from her face and glanced at the boy whose hand she held. He was blond with blue eyes and was staring at the two newcomers warily. Sage's gaze flicked to the boy and she managed not to frown.

Shifting, Hank looked them over and rose, holding his hand out, willing to shake either of their free ones. "I'm Doctor Hank McCoy from Xavier's institute. It's lovely to meet both of you."

The boy just continued to eye him but the girl shook his hand. "I'm Betsy. This is Brian, my twin. He doesn't want me to go," she informed the room at large.

Hank turned to glance at Sage and their father before back at the two children. "I'm sorry, Brian. It's good to meet you too."

Brian slipped his hand from Betsy's to finally offer it to Hank. He glanced toward his father and then back at the brunet, "Can I talk to you?"

Hank blinked at him and nodded. "Yes, of course. Here or would you prefer somewhere else?"

Brian glanced at the hall, "Out there, if you don't mind." His voice was quiet.

"Yes, of course," Hank said, offering him a smile and adjusting his glasses. He glanced at Sage before following the boy.

Sage watched them go before turning to talk with Sir James and his daughter.

Once they were in the hall, Brian turned to look up at Hank, "This is a good thing for Betsy, right? And I mean honestly."

Considering the boy, Hank nodded. "Honestly," he promised. "Training her in the use of her powers will help her and even those around her. Being telepathic is one of the most dangerous powers both for the user and for those around her. Things could get out of hand. This way she'll have others like her, and one of the best teachers in the entire world."

"Jamie didn't have anyone to teach him and it turned out okay. I mean it was trippy for a while, but..." Brian shrugged. "If it's best for her then I guess that means it's not right for me to want her to stay here, huh?"

"Jamie?" Hank asked. "Well, yes, it can turn out, but with training it will be so much easier. And... it's perfectly understandable to want her to stay. I would hate for anyone I cared about to leave but sometimes we have to understand it's for the best. She's hardly leaving forever, anyway. She'll be back, and you'll be able to come and see her."

"Our older brother. He can...make you see things, change things." The teen shook his head, "I can't watch out for her if she's over there though." His blue eyes locked with Hank's, "Will you take care of her for me?"

Filing the brother's name and powers away, Hank nodded, keeping his eyes on the boy's. "Of course I will. I promise I'll take care of her."

Brian looked him over for a long moment and then nodded, "Good. She'll like it there, right?"

"I hope she will," Hank murmured. "It's beautiful, and there are plenty of well, interesting but good hearted people. The house is a lot like this actually, so that should be, reassuring."

The boy offered him a bit of a smile, "Alright."

The door to the study opened and the three occupants came out, Betsy moving to hug her brother, "Come on, Brian, I need to go get the bags I'm taking on the plane." She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Don't hide too much after I go."

He offered her a smile that looked far more genuine than it probably was and let her drag him off.

Sage spoke softly, "Brian's gifted too?"

Sir James glanced at her, "He hasn't shown any signs of it, but I wouldn't be surprised."

Hank watched the children go up the stairs before turning to Sage and Sir James. "Is he? Should he come too?"

Sage shook her head, "He hasn't developed yet. I could catalyze it, but it would be too soon."

"Their brother has mental gifts as well," Sir James remarked. "If Brian needs your help I'll call."

The dark-haired woman shook her head, "It's not a mental ability. It's far more physical than that. But, yes, do call us if you need any help with his training and the like."

Hank frowned. "But he doesn't want to part from her. Would it perhaps be better to take them together?" Certainly not something he should push but he felt for the boy who'd met his eyes like that.

The children's father considered, "I cannot make that decision without speaking with Brian and his mother first. If you are able to stay in the country for an extra day or two I will be able to let you know. If the hotel costs are an issue we have plenty of guest rooms."

Hank glanced at Sage with an arched brow. "I doubt the cost would be an issue." An extra few days in England? "But if you would like us to stay here to be nearby we could do that as well."

He shook his head, "That is entirely up to you. I have no desire to shuffle my children across the Atlantic at a moment's notice. There are far more interesting things to see nearer to London than we are now."

Sage thought for a moment and then nodded, "We can certainly wait another couple of days."

"Then we'll let you know in a couple of days," Sir James inclined his head slightly.

"Thank you," Hank said, nodding his head. "We'll leave our number, especially if you have any more questions."

"Thank you." They left the number and Sir James saw them to the door and into their rental car.

Hank glanced down at the watch, calculating when he could call Alex—and what else he could go see. Sage checked the time as well as she started the car and pulled away from the manor, heading toward London, "Give him another three hours before you call, unless he's an early riser and then you might be able to call now."

"Not this early," Hank said. "Besides, we will need to talk to Charles as well."

"Charles is always up by six, you and I both know that. But, you're right. I was considering taking another turn through the British museum when we get back to the city. You're welcome to do as you like. We might as well meet up somewhere for supper." Her tone was matter-of-fact, but the fact that she'd actually included what she intended to do showed at least a start toward a level of relaxation she hadn't shown since arriving at the mansion.

Hank inclined his head slightly. "I'll give them both another hour. And I certainly wouldn't mind taking three turns around the British museum if we had time." He considered her for a moment. "You seem more relaxed here."

She glanced up at him, "Relaxed? I suppose it's the fact that I'm not focusing so hard on one thing all the time. Mental shielding, though helpful, can be a pain and a half to deal with day and night."

Once again he considered her. "You shield yourself from Charles?"

"I like my thoughts to be my own," she answered. "I know how easy it is to accidentally cheat, to slip into someone's mind without them knowing it. I don't want it done to me."

Hank swallowed and looked away, nodding slightly.

"He's a powerful telepath, but that's all I'll say on that matter. Shielding helps, but even then if he really wanted to I'm certain he could get past them." She shrugged, "Either way, over here I'm not dealing with that and I'm not doing any teaching. I've time to myself and I enjoy it."

"Well, everyone should relax every once and a while." He paused again. "Why did you ask me with you?"

"Sean and Warren are both students, I wasn't dealing with Charles' wheelchair on a plane and Bishop is still working with the others' powers. Beyond that, you're gentle, helpful and reassuring when you need to be. I thought it would help."

"Oh," Hank said and nodded finally. "That makes sense." Pausing again, he considered her for a long moment as they drove.

She glanced at him, "What is it?"

"I don't know," he replied. "You're rather confusing, all told. You play things close to the chest and have enough ability to shield and you don't want anyone in your mind. Which, god, makes sense, but still it implies a lack of trust as well as secrets. But, it's not really my business I suppose."

"As I said, I know what it is to be on the invasive side of telepathy. Mine's shut down, but there was a time when I had it. I just don't care to tell anything beyond what I actually want people to know."

He blinked at her with the revelation of her own telepathy. "I suppose that makes sense but... what are your powers anyway? I don't think that's ever been clear but nothing we do seems to surprise you much."

"I have the ability to remember everything I've ever seen, heard, smelled, felt, or tasted. I have immediate and total recall down to the number of furs that rose along your spine when you realized you didn't have your image inducer on. Due to that I can predict the highest probability of occurrences. In addition to that I can process the genetic code of people I meet, giving me the ability to tell if someone is a latent mutant and often what general ability they have, or might have. For instance, yours is cosmetic predominantly, though there are other aspects as well, while Warren's is cosmetic and avian and Alex's is primarily offensive. Given the proper necessity I can likely jump-start certain genetic traits as well, namely powers," Her gaze remained focused on the road and she rattled off her gifts as though reading a print-out of some sort.

Considering all that, Hank wondered the chances of her _not_ having picked up on him and Alex. "Those are some abilities," he murmured. "So, in some ways you're a walking version of Cerebro, tracking mutants."

Her lips quirked, "In some ways, yes. Really what you're doing through circuitry all over the globe via Cerebro is what I can do in near proximity."

"It would certainly be useful," he said, almost itching to do tests on what extent of something like that and never actually considering it, though he was considering how to best make a suit to enhance her abilities.

Sage glanced at him, "Do I want to know what you're thinking?"

His mouth quirked up. "Honestly? How to best make you a suit. Bishop is fairly straightforward, like Alex and Sean's."

She smiled slightly at that, "Just make sure it gives me full range of motion, and that's pretty much all there is to it."

"I suppose so," he said. "There isn't much more that could be done, unless I could find some way to add something to the suit that would allow you to connect with information channels..."

"That would certainly be a boon. The difficulty is of course the bulk that that might add."

"It would," he agreed, mind already racing through it. He'd managed to slim line Alex's suit, he figured with time he'd manage something here.

Sage actually smiled slightly again, "Enjoy your time here, Hank, leave the techno-planning for the plane ride back."

He offered her a wry smile. "Alright, alright." He glanced around before back to her. "So, out of curiosity, you and Bishop?"

She paused for a moment, considering how to answer that and how much to say, "Yes."

In reply she got another smile. "I thought so. You two seem close. I figure asking how you met isn't going to get much of an answer though."

"No. It won't." She glanced at him, lowering her voice, "You and Alex?"

He blushed, the image inducer picking up on the slightly raised temperature and showing it. "Um, well, we, I... it..."

"You two seem good for one another."

"Thank you," Hank said quietly.

She nodded, "I wish you both luck."

"We'll probably need it," he said quietly. After a moment he smiled. "So, the British museum then?"

X-X-X

After spending a bit longer than he expected in the British museum, Hank ran back to the hotel. He called the main mansion phone, needing to talk to Charles first before Alex or he'd never get around to speaking to Charles.

Charles picked up the phone in his study, "Hello? Charles Xavier speaking."

"Charles, it's Hank."

"Oh, Hank. It's good to hear from you. How are things going?"

"Well, I think. Her father agrees Betsy should come—at least I think he was, but we've run into slight trouble with the brother. He does not want to be separated from his sister and he is a latent mutant. We offered to let him come as well but his father is debating the issue so we're going to stay a couple days later."

Charles considered that for a long moment, "Well, I certainly see no reason on this end why him coming wouldn't work. Are the two of you alright with staying a few days longer?"

"I am," he replied. "I mean... England. Sage doesn't seem to mind either but I wanted to talk to Alex if he's around as well. But it would just be another two days or so."

"Of course, give me a moment to let him know you're on the phone."

"Thank you," Hank replied. "First, is everything fine there?"

"Everything's going well, as far as I know," Charles replied. "Is there a more specific question behind that one?"

"No? I was just curious. It's strange to be gone is all."

"I'm sure it is. Take care Hank." Charles bid him good-bye just as another phone was picked up.

"Hank?" Alex's voice came on the line.

"Alex," Hank replied, voice warming just about instantly.

There was a soft click as Charles hung up. Alex's smile could just about be heard in his voice, "How're you?"

"I'm doing well. I'm going to sleep for a week when I get home but I'm doing well. It's beautiful in London but all I can think about is the countryside too," he laughed softly, voice still warm. "And how lovely that must be. How're you?"

Alex laughed quietly, "I'm doing well. Bishop's got us training like no body's business, so I'm sleeping well. Missing you, but all in all doing good."

"Well, I'm glad to be missed, but it's good you're sleeping well anyway."

"How are things going there?"

"Mostly well, I think. Betsy I'm pretty sure is coming with us but... a small complication with her brother means we're staying a couple extra days," his voice lowered as he admitted to that.

There was a long pause as Alex processed that. He finally chuckled, "Told you you wouldn't want to leave."

"You're right, I don't, it's amazing, but I miss you already," he said, cradling the phone against his ear. "I mean, I realized it, but it feels like it just hit me in the gut hearing your voice again. Her brother is a latent mutant as well though, so their father is debating letting us take both children."

"So you might be coming back with two in tow instead of just one? You'll be home soon, either way, and look on the upside, it gives you more time to explore. Which, by the way, I expect to hear everything about."

Hank smiled fondly. "Believe me, you will. I got to go to the British Museum today..."

"Sounds like you enjoyed it."

"I did," Hank said quietly. "By the way, I have not forgotten about dragging you on a boat."

Alex grinned at that, "I'm looking forward to that."

"Good," Hank said. "Because you're pretty much stuck with me dragging you around this country now."

That got a laugh, "Good. I...I love you, Hank."

Hank just about purred. "I know. I love you very much too, even from England."

"I should probably get going if I plan on getting any breakfast before the day starts around here. I'll see you in a few days. Have a great time between now and then."

"Yeah," Hank said, not really sounding like he liked that idea. "Enjoy breakfast."

"I'll be there to pick you guys up from the airport, and if you get the chance, call. Even collect."

"Alright," Hank said quietly. "I expect to see you there then."

"Take care."

"I will. You be careful too."

"Always."

"Good. Love you, Alex," Hank murmured. "I'll see you in a few days."

"Love you too. 'Bye, Hank."

Hank slowly hung up the phone and sighed softly. On the other hand, there was still time in the day to see things, and he really did not want to pass that up.

_December 16, 1963_

Alex leaned against the wall of the airport, watching as people disembarked from the plane that Hank and the others were flying in on. He glanced at Bishop, a little bit surprised that the other man had asked to come along. Bishop returned the look steadily, though he leaned forward slightly when he saw Sage emerge, followed by the two children and then Hank.

Sage offered Bishop the closest expression to a smile Alex had ever seen on her face, but his attention was drawn away as Hank came into sight. His face broke out into a grin.

Brian kept his hand twined with his sister's as he looked over the two people who seemed to know Sage and Hank. Betsy meanwhile had placed a hand to her head and moved closer to her brother. She'd had the same difficulty in Heathrow with all the conflicting minds around her.

Hank couldn't stop his massive grin on seeing Alex, but he frowned slightly as he watched Betsy. Leaning down, he asked her quietly if she was alright, knowing it was silly, and assuring her they would be out of the airport soon.

Alex made his way over, clearing his mind like Charles had instructed him for hours the day before. He looked down at the kids, though he didn't have to look down that far to meet Brian's eyes, "What do you say Hank and I go get your luggage. Sage and Bishop can get you guys out to the car?"

Hank looked up at him, eyes shining and nodded. "We'll get that," he assured the children, "You can head outside."

Approaching Sage, Bishop simply smiled at her and laid a hand on her hair before stepping back again Her expression turned almost affectionate for a brief moment before she turned to the twins, "Betsy, Brian, I agree with that idea. Let's get you two out to the car." She held out her hand for the keys, which Alex handed to her.

Hank shooed the children on, turning back to Alex as Bishop led the way through the crowds, easily parting them. "I missed you," he said quietly. "Now let's go find a corner to wait for the luggage in where no one's going to run into me."

"I missed you too." He offered Hank a smile, cursing the easy touch that wasn't permitted them. Glancing up at the other he led the way to baggage claim and moved to an out of the way corner. "How was the flight?"

"The flight was fine," he replied. "First class is rather relaxing until I realize how much money it costs. But it's two seats to a row and Sage sat in the aisle so at least no one would run into me. It's stressful, being in crowded places. I still... feel furry," he added quietly, glancing around and finding a spot of wall to lean against.

Alex leaned next to him, keeping his voice down, "Well, yeah, but with long sleeves most of that's covered, right? I know it doesn't help much, but..."

"Well, the other problem is I'm bigger than I look. People don't like running into thin air," he smiled faintly, aware he was tilting toward the other.

Alex chuckled, "You could probably adapt the illusion to deal with that."

"I could try," he said. "I spent most of the flight trying to figure out a suit for Sage."

His brows rose sharply at that, "A suit for Sage?"

"Well," he said, watching where the luggage was going to come out. "We talked some about her powers and how she could use them."

"How'd that go?"

"It's interesting really. She's much different when she's not at the mansion. I was surprised."

"How do you mean?" Alex watched as the luggage started to show up, but decided to wait until most of the other passengers had gotten theirs.

"Well, she's more relaxed. She even talked about Bishop a little."

"So are they...?"

Hank nodded. "She, erm, figured us out too."

Alex looked at him, some horror mixing into his expression, "She what?"

"She wished us both luck," Hank murmured, glancing away.

That got a look of surprise, "Wow. Huh. She...I don't get her."

Hank shrugged. "I'm not sure I do either. But I suppose the majority of the mansion knows... again."

"Technically the majority knew before this." Alex glanced toward the baggage claim, "Looks like it's cleared up mostly. Shall we?"

Nodding, Hank moved forward, lifting up several of the bags, his form belying his strength.

"You know you're not subtle when you do that," Alex remarked, picking up a couple of more. "There's probably a luggage cart here somewhere."

Hank smiled faintly. "No, it's probably not."

"Any other bags, or do we have all of them?"

"I think we have them all," Hank said. "They're going to have most of their things shipped to them." He went to find a luggage cart.

"How do we keep finding the rich kids?" Alex queried as he set the bags he was carrying on the cart Hank located.

"I have no idea," he remarked. "But I think a little more variety would be useful."

"Probably. Well, eventually we'll be finding strays, right? I mean this is the Prof after all. He takes in strays."

"Including us," Hank gave him a smile. "I'm still expecting to find a box of kittens in the kitchen one day."

"I don't know, puppies seem more likely, honestly," Alex replied as he started pushing the luggage cart to where he'd parked the car.

Hank considered offering to push the cart and let Alex. "Really? Charles seems more a cat person to me. Warren would find the puppies though."

Alex laughed at that, "I suppose that's true."

"Point being, I fully intend to find a box of stray animals in the kitchen someday."

Alex grinned, shaking his head as they reached the car he'd brought, "Yeah, well, we'll have to keep an eye out for it."

"I wouldn't mind a cat," Hank remarked. "Then I wouldn't be the only one who purrs." He opened the back of the car.

"But I like that unique quality of yours." Alex responded, remembering to clamp down on his thoughts and focus on the fascinating leather on the suitcases when he saw Betsy in the car.

Hank smiled, and realized he need to clamp those thoughts down too, turning to moving the luggage. They got the car loaded and Alex went around to the driver's door, getting in.

Hank considered the car and slid into the passenger seat, letting Bishop sit in the back by Sage.

Alex glanced in the rearview mirror to see Brian murmuring in his sister's ear, keeping up a steady stream of words for her to focus on. Havok pulled away from the curb, turning the car toward Westchester.

Hank glanced back as well, watching the siblings and smiling faintly before keeping his mind mostly blank, and he figured Sage was back to shielding both her and Bishop's minds.

* * *

><p>We promise we won't be doing a specific introduction for every student that shows up, but Betsy and Brian are likely to be recurrent characters and so needed their own introductions. We also promise some CharlesErik interaction next chapter! Thank you for reading, reviews are given a good home with cocoa and a fuzzy blanket for the winter.


	28. Muscles of a Greek God

_December 16, 1963_

Sitting his helmet on the desk, Erik leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. Charles, miles away, felt the removal of the shield and reached out almost tentatively through the link, _Erik?_

_Charles_ the other replied warmly. _How are you?_

_Doing well. How are you, Erik?_

He rubbed his temples again. _Very tired. God, Charles, I can just about feel your headache from here._

A wave of confusion came through the link at that, _Headache?_

_Yours_ Erik replied with a slight frown. _Your head feels like it's throbbing._

_Oh. I hadn't noticed. It's not that bad, really._

Erik blinked. _It's not that bad?_

Charles shook his head slightly, _Not really, no. I'm still vertical and capable of working, so no. It's not that bad._

_I don't want to know what your bad is_ Erik drawled, even in the space of their mental link.

That earned a quiet sense of amusement, _I haven't had one of those in a very long time._

_Good,_ Erik responded briskly.

_Any reason you're so tired, old friend?_

A shrug was felt even through the link. _The usual. I miss you._

_And I you. I'm not going to be able to get away for a while though, I'm afraid._ He sighed, the sense of it echoing mentally.

_I know. I understand. But..._ he sighed. _I don't have to be happy with it do I?_

_No. You don't. I miss you._ He fell silent for a long moment, _Christmas isn't too far off. Just about a week really. What do you say we meet somewhere for Christmas Eve if we can't see one another sooner?_

_Yes,_ Erik replied, a little too quickly.

Affection and amusement twined through the link, _Then we shall have to plan on that, for now._

A soft murmur of agreement met that. _We shall plan then. Do you have time now?_

_I have some time, yes. I don't expect any interruptions for about another hour._

_And in another hour?_ Erik asked, honestly just curious.

_There are a couple of new students I will have to go greet._ The response was quiet, accidentally twined with memories of the trip around the states.

Something feeling bittersweet greeted him. _Yes. You always did want students._

_It's a brother and a sister this time. I've no real idea what to expect._

_Two of them? Your students are appearing in pairs it seems._

_I was only expecting the sister._

_And got the brother too?_

_Yes. Apparently he didn't want her to leave, and there are indications that his gifts will manifest soon as well._

_Well, you are getting a handful,_ Erik remarked, still affectionate.

Charles laughed, mentally and audibly at that, _Well, Warren's been saying we need more girls, though I think he'll get more than he bargained for in this case._

Erik laughed in return. _Especially if she has a protective brother._

_Exactly. It will be quite the experience if nothing else._

Erik chuckled fondly again. _Yes._ He thought briefly of Azazel and Raven.

Charles caught the flickering thought, _What about them?_

_Hm?_ Erik attempted.

_...Erik..._

_They are interesting as well. I'm not sure which way it's going to fall but they've been getting closer._

_...I see._ There was a pause, _She's being careful, right?_

_Careful how?_ Erik managed.

_Erik, you know my opinions on your choice of ally. Please tell me Raven's actually thinking?_

_Yes,_ he replied. _I believe she is. After all, she's held him at more than arm's length for a year._

Another mental sigh accompanied Charles' next thought, _What is he like?_

_Azazel? Actually, not too bad. I mean, brutal, but he doesn't always carry that over to places outside the battle field._

_...Good._

_You really are the disapproving older brother, aren't you?_ Erik asked affectionately.

There was a faint strand of humor, the equivalent to one of Charles' half-smiles, twined around the link at that, _I can be, yes. I've just been watching out for her for so long it's strange not to be able to._

_I know you were,_ Erik replied, voice soft. _I try my hardest._

_I know you do. Thank you,_ Charles replied quietly, weaving affection in with his thoughts.

Erik returned the affection. _I love you._

_I love you too. So very much._

Erik hummed through the bond, twining affection together with his thoughts, enveloping Charles' mind in it. Charles allowed his mind to sink into the affection, returning it with equal fervor along with a dose of hope. Managing not to draw back from the hope, Erik imagined petting Charles' hair and holding him tight.

The telepath focused on the feeling, mentally curling in Erik's arms, embracing him in return, content to stay there, the two of them. Leaning back in the chair, Erik let himself indulge in the fantasy and the thought of feeling Charles.

Charles closed his eyes, one hand going to his temple as he turned his attention to the safety and joy he felt at any contact with Erik, even over the distance. Imagining running his hands down Charles' spine, Erik tilted his head back slightly. The telepath drew a sharp breath at that, mentally reacting as he would in person, pressing against the other, one hand moving to comb through Erik's hair while the other traced a pattern over the other man's chest before trailing over and down to his hip.

Now grinning, Erik ran the hands down mental Charles' spine again, curling his fingers. That earned a soft, indistinguishable sound as Charles arched at the touch. The affection through the link was quickly being colored with the deeper sense of desire as the telepath tried to focus on running one of his hands down along Erik's chest, tracing a pattern there briefly before he mentally leaned down and kissed the other's throat.

Erik shifted in the chair he was actually sitting in, nearly unbalancing it he was leaning so far back. A brief flash of alarm went through the bond followed by a laugh. Charles drew back very slightly at the alarm, but chuckled when he realized it wasn't any actual immediate danger. _Careful, love._

_Damn unsteady chair,_ Erik sent back, pouting.

That earned another laugh, _Maybe you oughtn't lean so far back._

Erik smirked and it could be felt through the bond.

_You are incorrigible,_ Charles remarked fondly.

_But you love me anyway._

_Always._

Warmth flooded the link again. G_ood._

X-X-X

Alex pulled the car to a stop in front of the mansion, shutting it off and getting out. He looked around, finally seeing Charles as the older man emerged from the house. The professor offered Alex a nod before his gaze moved to where Brian was helping his sister out of the car.

Hank moved out of the car with a slight burst of speed. He was tired of sitting, and either wanted to stand or lie down, but not sit. Honestly, the plane ride and drive had been too long combined. Glancing back at the children, he offered Charles a smile. "Professor. Good to see you."

Charles returned the smile, amusement lighting his eyes at Hank's motions, "And you, Hank. It's good to have you home."

Sage stepped out of the car, nodding slightly to Charles before going and opening the trunk to start unloading the bags.

Bishop, who was having none of Hank's issues with excitement to be home coupled with sheer exhaustion, moved to help with the bags, lifting several easily and handing the children their own bags to deal with as they saw fit.

Brian took their bags from Bishop, making sure Betsy had hers. She offered him a faint smile before moving over to Charles, "Hello, sir."

Charles' smile turned gentle, "You must be Betsy."

She nodded, turning slightly, "This is Brian."

"It's a pleasure to meet both of you. I'll let you two get settled in before we talk more, how does that sound?"

Brian nodded, "That sounds good. Thank you."

Charles glanced toward Alex and Hank, speaking to Alex, "Would you show them to their rooms?"

Hoping it wasn't obvious, Hank was leaning slightly toward Alex. Being home though was giving him a second wind. Getting his own bags he offered Bishop a smile before going back up and inside to the mansion.

Warren was perched on the railing along the second floor, waiting for the new students to enter where he could observe them hopefully without them seeing him.

Alex fell into step with Hank, Betsy and Brian right behind them as they entered. Brian's gaze was sweeping over the hallway of the first floor, but Betsy's eyes moved directly to lock with Warren's. She'd heard his thoughts clearly, the first one's she'd heard that way since the airport, as soon as she'd stepped in the door.

He fluttered his wings in some surprise, and offered her a smile, feeling exactly like a teenage boy confronted with a pretty girl.

She smiled in response. Brian noticed and he followed her gaze, frowning when he saw Warren. Alex led the way to the stairs, pausing long enough to shut Hank's image inducer off with a murmured, "You're home, stop hiding."

Warren's eyes flickered down to Hank and Alex, murmuring a greeting to Hank, who was blinking a little too rapidly at Alex. "Alex!" he managed, glancing back at the newcomers, still unsure anytime his fur was revealed to a stranger. The instinctual drawing back to hide.

Brian's jaw dropped at that and he paused. Betsy tilted her head on one side, speaking quietly, "I wondered what you would look like in real life."

Her brother looked at her, "You knew he looked like this?"

She nodded slightly, "Sort of. He's bigger than I thought. He's standing right here, Brian."

The boy looked a little sheepish before turning back to Hank, looking him over again, "It's...yes." He wasn't quite sure how to react and was starting to fall back on his tried and true 'ignore it for now' pattern.

Hank shot Alex an annoyed look before pausing, and smoothing his fur down. He nodded to Betsy. "So, you picked something along these lines up then I'm presuming?" Finally, he glanced at Brian and nodded again. "I am sorry for not mentioning, well, this," he said and gestured to himself. "But I'd hoped for a chance to ease any new students into the idea."

Betsy nodded slightly as Brian eyed him. The boy shrugged, "Well, it's... different. Not bad, but... different. Unexpected."

Ruffling his fur, Hank offered him a smile, the same smile he had given the boy in England. "Sorry," he offered again and looked at Alex. "Can you at least give me warning before you do that?" he asked. "Especially after walking off a flight from England?"

Alex shrugged, "It worked out." Betsy glanced between the two of them, frowning slightly like she was trying to figure things out and Alex immediately turned his attention to the wooden paneling on the wall. "So, then, let's get you two to your rooms."

Hank blinked once, forcibly turning his thoughts away from using Alex as a pillow for the rest of the afternoon and nodded. "Yes, rooms. We have a few extra if you want to choose others, but I think there are two that should suit you quite well and are next door to each other."

Still perched on the railing, Warren watched them walk up the stairs intently.

Betsy glanced at Warren as she heard Brian thank the other two. "It's rude to stare," she spoke quietly as they passed near him.

He stuck out his hand before she could walk past him. "An introduction then. Warren Worthington."

She startled at that, looking at his hand as though she wasn't quite sure how to respond. She felt Brian tense next to her, but she finally shook the hand, "Betsy Braddock. This is Brian, my brother."

"I'm sure it's fantastic to meet you both," he said, clearly meaning her. Hank considered whacking Warren in the back of the head.

Betsy offered him a very faint smile, but drew her hand back as she saw Brian's fist clenching out of the corner of her eye, "Good to meet you too, Warren. Good day."

Warren gave her a grin but off Hank's look didn't press anything further, finally glancing back to Brian and offering him a grin too.

Brian looked unimpressed at that and just tugged on his sister's elbow, "Come on, Bets. We should get unpacked."

She glanced at him, "You're right. We'd better get settled in."

Rolling his eyes as he passed Warren who was grinning like an idiot, Hank was working on not letting his thoughts stray back toward Alex. Secrets were such a pain to keep in this mansion.

They finally reached the rooms that had been set aside for Betsy and Brian, Alex opening the doors for them. "If you need anything feel free to ask anyone here. We'll see if we can help out."

"We're very helpful here," Hank said, swaying slightly. Right, he was getting his own bag back to his bedroom and curling up there—or maybe in Alex's room for that matter...

Betsy's brow rose but she nodded, "Okay. If we need anything we'll find someone. Sleep well, Hank."

Alex glanced from her to Hank, his brows rising sharply at that. Staring at her, mouth slightly open, Hank realized that must have been a loud thought to let slip through. He reached up to rub his temple. "Yes, thank you Betsy. Enjoy unpacking."

She nodded, slipping into her room. Alex looked at Brian who followed his sister. Havok glanced at Hank, "Shall we get you unpacked as well?"

"Please, before I let Brian know which bed I'm aiming for too," he muttered, rubbing his temples again. "I wonder if it's possible to keep a secret in this house."

"Two telepaths, and one that accidentally reads minds, if what Charles told Bishop and me about when his powers were still developing is any indication. Secrets don't exist." He pulled Hank along with him, "Let's get you to bed so you can sleep a bit."

Hank nodded mutely, trying not to think too hard except about the feel of Alex's hand. "You know the biggest bonus about a boat?" he said. "No jet-lag."

"Sounds like heaven." The smaller man was absently running his fingers through the fur on Hank's arm until they got caught on a small knot, "Have you brushed this at all?"

"No," he replied a bit softly. "I didn't really have the energy or the inducer off long enough."

"Well, you're going to sleep and I'm going to work on that."

"Sleep? With you brushing me?" Hank asked, but was smiling slightly. "Not quite so possible. But I can assure you I will be very relaxed."

Alex chuckled, "You might be surprised considering how tired you're looking."

Reaching the door Hank opened it with his free hand, pushing Alex in lightly and kissing him. "You're underestimating how much I missed you."

Alex leaned up into the kiss, "I've missed you too, so much." He took Hank's bag, setting it aside, "Go lay down, I'll find the brushes."

Smiling faintly at that, Hank sat on the edge of the bed, watching Alex. Alex located the brushes and turned around, shaking his head, "That's not laying down."

"Not yet," Hank agreed, third wind appearing at getting Alex behind a closed door.

Havok grinned, moving over to the bed and leaning in to kiss the other, "It's easier to brush you when you're laying down. I'm sure we've been over that."

Twining his arms around Alex's waist, Hank hummed in agreement. "I just wanna use you as a pillow."

Alex laughed a bit at that, "I'm actually okay with that."

"Oh good. I think I've been thinking about it since the fourth hour on the plane."

"Well, then I think that can be arranged." He set the brushes on the bedside table and pushed lightly on Hank's shoulders, "But you have to lie down."

Smiling faintly, Hank claimed a kiss before disentangling and lying down finally.

Alex looked him over, "You want me to brush you or do you want to sleep first?"

"Don't care much," Hank murmured, watching him. "Either one. Sleep better after brushing though."

Alex picked up the comb at that, "Then I'll do that first."

Letting out a sound between a purr and a happy sigh, Hank just continued watching him with lidded eyes. "This still shocks me," he murmured.

"What?" Came the question as Alex slipped Hank's shirt off so he could actually work on combing the knots out of the blue fur.

Hank lifted himself to get the shirt off easier. "This. Us. You and me. In a good way," he added quickly.

That garnered a small quirk of Alex's lips upward as he set to work on untangling Hank's fur, "It's been almost a year."

"When I met you, I thought you hated me," he murmured, shifting against that. "Then I changed and I thought I would have to go into hiding. Then you liked me and loved me and then people started finding out and I thought about hiding again. It shocks me every time I, we, get accepted again."

Alex's hand stilled in its motion, "I never hated you, Hank. And, people here know what it is to be different, to hide. It's outside these gates we have to worry." He shook his head as he finished working on the small knots on Hank's chest, picking up the curry comb to work on getting a good deal of the loose fur dealt with.

"I thought you did," Hank said, with no malice. "Part of me understands all that, but it doesn't change the fact I expect something different."

"I...well, we hide what we can and make do with what we can't"

Hank glanced up at him. "Yeah," he said, twisting around to touch the side of Alex's face. "It's just different. But, I'm happy."

Alex leaned into the touch, "I'm sorry you thought I hated you."

"Well, you didn't do much to have me think otherwise," Hank said quietly. "What was all that bozo business anyway?"

"Convincing myself I didn't like you," came the quiet reply. Alex kept his eyes focused on the curry comb and the fur he was sweeping off of Hank's chest.

Shifting, Hank laid a hand over his. "Come again?"

"I...didn't want to admit I liked you. I mean..." he shrugged, slipping his hand away from Hank's to set the comb down and pick up the bristle brush.

Hank just watched him for a long moment, wanting to prompt this more, confused and fascinated. "You mean?"

"I mean you with your big brain, khakis and opposable toes was just as sexy as you with your big brain, blue fur and muscles of a Greek god," Alex almost snapped.

Hank couldn't help but grin a little goofily at that. "I suppose, why did you want to convince yourself so hard?" Maybe he was missing cues here, but having Alex open up a little made him want to see how far he could go.

He shrugged, "Cause you're you and I am—_was_—a walking time-bomb." _And there was Darwin. And I was confused. And..._

Hank cupped his face with both hands. "I like that past tense in there by the way though I'm not entirely sure what me being me had to do with it."

Alex swallowed, "You should turn over so I can brush your back."

Hank made a faint sound of protest before complying.

It was easier to talk when he wasn't looking Hank in the eye. He set to work on the tangles along the other's spine, "I would rather you have thought I hated you than for you to hate me for liking you."

"You frustrated me," Hank said softly. "I couldn't figure out what I'd done."

"I didn't want you to hate me. I-I didn't want to hurt you."

"So," Hank said quietly. "You liked me from the start?"

"Yeah? Well, mostly. But, yeah?"

The larger let out a quiet huff of breath that sounded amused. "I can't believe it. I really didn't like you at first, I'm sorry to say."

Alex managed a faint grin at that, picking up the curry comb, "Well, at least that part worked."

"I'm glad you're not pushing me away anymore," he murmured, rolling the muscles in his back. "I can't say I blame you for worrying but... I would never have hated you for liking me."

"I know that now." Alex shook his head, "If you hadn't kissed me last year we would have kept that dance going."

"Oh God," Hank rumbled. "I would be insane by now."

The blond grinned a bit at that, "Probably. I just don't do well with making the first move."

Rolling his muscles again, Hank smiled faintly. "I noticed."

Alex finished brushing Hank's back, gathering the fur he'd accumulated and tossing it in the trash before putting the brushes away, "Well, what matters is we're here now, right?"

"Yes," Hank said, voice drooping slightly. "Would you mind being more here on the bed though?"

Alex chuckled and moved over, stretching out on the bed next to Hank, "That can be arranged."

"I like that," Hank rumbled, shifting onto his side and pulling the other closer, settling down with a purr.

"Get some sleep, Hank." Alex's hand came up to comb through the other's fur.

The blue mutant made a sleepy sound, already along that path. "Will you be alright with me sleeping on you?"

"I'll be fine. Sleep, Hank, you need it."

Making another contented sleepy sound, he did just that.

* * *

><p>So, some of you may have noticed, updates slowed just a bit. We'll be working with this schedule for a while and seeing if we can get a larger buffer in case for some reason we can't write for a while. We like to have a security net when it comes to posting, so the updates will be approximately every week and a half or so.<p>

Thank you all for the reviews and alerts! We're always really happy to see some enjoyed the story enough to add it to their e-mail notifications (and are enjoying it enough to leave it there) we just wish there was a way to let the rest of the fanfiction community know that you did.


	29. I'm Not Made of Glass

_December 20, 1963_

Charles closed his study door, moving over to his desk before reaching out to contact Erik, _Are you available?_

Erik lifted his head slightly from the pillow on his office cot before letting it fall again. _Yes._

_I was hoping we could sort out a place to meet for Christmas Eve._ Charles' mental voice was a bit sheepish, _I didn't mean to wake you._

_I wasn't sleeping that well anyway,_ he replied. _Just dozing._ A pause. _Christmas eve?_ he asked, mental voice drowsy.

_We'd talked about meeting up for Christmas,_ Charles reminded gently. He glanced at the clock, _It's later than I realized. This can wait 'til tomorrow if you like._

_No, now is fine. Any ideas?_

_There's a comfortable hotel I know that has an attached restaurant._

Erik hummed. _A comfortable hotel?_

_Mhm. It's a nice place._

_Are you paying?_ Erik asked, teasing.

He chuckled softly, _I can if you like._

_How romantic._

Charles mentally rolled his eyes, _Erik..._ affectionate exasperation twined through the link.

Erik grinned at the ceiling. _Yes, love?_

_You're incorrigible._

_Always and forever. When would you like to meet? Besides Christmas of course._

_Six? Seven perhaps?_

_Am I getting an address to this place then?_ Erik asked, voice sleepy but affectionate.

_Hm? Oh, right..._ Charles located the address, sending it to Erik.

Erik smiled faintly at that, sending affection across the link.

The telepath smiled, returning the affection, _I should let you get back to sleep._

_If you like,_ Erik murmured, sending some mischief across the link.

Charles laughed quietly at that, mentally shaking his head, _Sleep is in fact good for you, my friend._

_I get plenty,_ he replied. _I get less time with you._

_Fair enough._ He mentally smirked, giving the sensation of his fingers ghosting down Erik's side.

_It doesn't take much convincing, does it?_ Erik laughed, a little breathless. _Miss me much?_

_Very much. I've been dealing with students and teachers and logistics for far too long. I miss you, desperately_ the sensation traced its way over Erik's chest and around to his back, splitting off, one "hand" moving along his spine while the other moved down to his hip.

Erik laughed again. _Poor Charles._ He shifted, imagining his own hands in Charles' hair, stroking through said hair.

Charles closed his eyes, tilting his head into the imagined touch as he let his hand trail from Erik's hip to tangle in his hair, mentally leaning up to kiss him.

Erik huffed quietly. _Charles,_ he sent back, running his hands down to the other's hips.

The telepath drew in a sharp breath at that, _G-god, Erik._

_You're so easy,_ Erik grinned, nuzzling against his neck.

_Like y-you're any better._ He turned his attention to Erik's throat, one hand moving to trace down the other's chest and abdomen.

The door to Erik's office opened and Raven froze, her brows rising sharply when she saw Erik on the cot instead of at his desk. The telepathic feedback she could sense from ages of feeling Charles' touch around her made her shake her head, "Really, Erik?"

He just about had a heart attack, rolling off the cot and landing hard on the floor. Looking up, his eyes narrowed at Raven. "Yes?"

Stepping in behind Raven, Azazel raised his brows. She just shook her head at their leader, "Seriously? I mean, really?"

"Really what?" he asked, picking himself up and brushing off his legs. "Did you two want something?"

"Apparently we can come back later. Did you consider locking the door?"

"I thought I had," he said, glaring.

Azazel looked between them. "Didn't we have business to discuss?"

"Well, you didn't," she replied. Mystique glanced at the teleporter, "It can wait." She turned on her heel to leave, "Oh, Erik? Try your room or locking the door next time."

"Yes, I will be very sure to do so," Erik muttered, glaring darkly.

Raven glanced at Azazel, "We have training we ought to be doing."

"We do? We do, but..." he started to protest and shrugged. "Yeah, let's."

She shot Erik another look before exiting, waiting for Azazel in the hall. Azazel looked their leader over, smirked and followed her. Muttering darkly to himself Erik got back onto the cot, laying on his side.

_Everything alright over there?_ Charles had located the work he'd intended to do when he first entered the study and was settling down to deal with it, but he wanted to double check.

_Just fell out of bed,_ he muttered darkly.

One eyebrow arched, _Just?_

_Your sister walked in._

_Oh._ He blushed slightly, _I see. I assume that went about as well as I'm imagining?_

_Apparently she knew what was going on._

_She...Oh. Oh! Heavens._

_Well, your sister just about walked in on us having sex only I had to deal with it._

Charles suppressed the amusement he felt at that statement and tone, _It could have been worse._

_Could have been worse?_ Erik huffed.

_We could have both been __**present**__._

_Next time, one of your students can walk in on this, alright?_

_Hank practically did last year, remember?_

_Well, next time it can actually happen this time._

Charles laughed, _I'm hardly going to leave my door unlocked._

Erik rolled his eyes, rolling over on his back. _Damnit, you're far too amused by this._

That earned another quiet laugh, _Perhaps so._

_Charles..._

_Hm?_

_You do bad things to me,_ Erik muttered.

_Is that a bad thing?_ Came the calm response, a touch ghosting over Erik's skin again.

Erik shifted, making sure the lock was actually locked. He allowed himself to imagine a touch on Charles' hip. _I miss being able to breeze in and ravage you before leaving the next morning._

Charles' breath hitched at that, _You and me both, Erik. You and me both._ He regained enough focus to return to his ministrations on the other's throat, his fingers tracing over Erik's skin.

_We'll have Christmas._

_Hardly even a week away._

_I'm sure I'll be unable to think of anything else,_ Erik sent back, tracing hands along where he wished Charles' spine was.

That earned a soft gasp as Charles sent a pulse of pleasure and desire along with his next thought, _I love you._ His fingers continued their exploration, one hand trailing along Erik's shoulders while the other moved down to his hip again.

_I know,_ Erik hummed, tilting his head and running his hands lower. _I love you too._

Charles' breath hitched again, his mental touch stuttering slightly before growing more sure again and trailing a little below Erik's waist, _G-god..._

Erik just grinned at that, shifting again before making sure the lock really was in place. If Azazel attempted teleporting through the door he'd see the red mutant destroyed. _Enjoying yourself, Charles?_

_E-Erik, you're being a tease._ The young professor's eyes closed and he tilted his head back as he tried to locate enough focus that Erik wasn't just getting any mental feedback.

_I'm the tease?_ Erik protested at that. _Don't lose focus here._

_Y-you're hardly helping me keep it._ Charles muttered but he drew himself together, his hands tracing lower as he mentally leaned in to kiss Erik

Erik grinned, smiling at that. _Was I supposed to help you keep it?_ he asked, innocent.

_You are a pain, you know that?_

_I have had no idea my entire life._

Charles rolled his eyes, his hands moving lower again. Still grinning, Erik imagined nuzzling his nose against Charles' throat, humming.

_December 24, 1963_

Charles arrived at the hotel and the agreed upon room a good deal early. He looked around the place, it was nice and moderately expensive but tastefully so at the same time. Some part of him knew they were tempting fate with this being Christmas Eve. His presence would likely be missed at the mansion, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He settled on the small couch in the suite-like room to wait for Erik.

The German arrived early as well, but not nearly so much as Charles. His brows rose at the sight of the other man already there, but smiled. "Charles." It felt like it had been ages since he actually said that name out loud.

Charles' lips curled into a smile, "Good evening, Erik." He savored the actual sound of their voices. There was a different feel to the mental voice in comparison, there always was.

"I've missed you."

"And I you, so very much." He hesitated for a moment before reaching for the wooden cane that rested near the couch, using it to lever himself to his feet, his gaze still on Erik.

Erik had glanced at the cane in a little confusion, and blinked rapidly at Charles now.

The telepath offered him a faint smile, "I'm still not completely steady, but no chair and no braces. I need the support to walk, but I'm finally able to do so."

Erik couldn't even quite think of anything to say to that, any other way to react than moving across the space and gathering Charles up tight in his arms, though not picking him up at all, carefully leaving his feet on the ground.

Charles' arms moved to wrap around him as he rested his head against Erik's chest, listening to his heartbeat. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I wanted to actually show you."

The taller nodded, voice still gone for the moment. He kissed the top of Charles' head instead, stroking his back, though his hand stilled where he knew the bullet had entered Charles' spine.

The telepath's eyes closed at the touch, "Hank expects it will always be a little weak, but as long as I'm careful it should continue to heal, and as long as I keep that part of my spine guarded I should retain my ability to walk."

Erik just nodded again, nose still buried in Charles' hair. "I'm sure Hank knows what he's talking about," he finally managed.

"I told you I would walk again," the smaller man murmured.

"And you are," Erik said, stunned.

Charles nodded against the other's chest, not saying anything further on the subject.

Erik's mind was still reeling in shock, though really should not be that shocked. He'd seen the braces—had taken advantage of the braces—but to have Charles standing in front of him was something entirely different. "Is this my Christmas present?" he murmured, arms tightening.

Charles smiled faintly at that, "Part of it."

Erik chuckled, the feeling obvious from where their chests were still pressed together.

That garnered a quiet laugh, "I love you."

The words catching in his throat, Erik just leaned down, kissing Charles instead. Charles pressed up into the kiss, his free hand moving to tangle in Erik's hair. Grinning against the kiss, Erik gently pulled him just a little bit closer. Charles let the cane fall aside, his hand moving to trace down Erik's side.

Erik grinned into the kiss, tilting his head. "You know," he said, pulling back. "I think there might be a day when I see you and don't want to ravage you on sight."

Charles laughed, "I do hope that's a long ways off."

Erik laughed. "I brought a chess set," he murmured, kissing Charles again. "I doubt I have the concentration for that now."

That earned a grin and another kiss, "I think I'm alright with that distraction."

"Maybe later," Erik murmured, running his finger tips down Charles' side. "I've wanted to actually touch you too long."

Charles shuddered under his touch, arching at it, "G-god." His fingers ghosted over Erik's shoulders, drawing him closer down so he could kiss the other, pressing up into it.

Erik grinned, tilting his neck into the kiss. "Did you miss me too?" he asked before kissing Charles' jaw.

"Y-yes. I miss you so much."

Erik muttered something that was probably in German before kissing Charles again.

_I can't translate that in this state, I h-hope you recall._ He pressed up against the other, his fingers tracing down Erik's back.

Erik drew back to speak, feeling the vibrations from actually speaking the words and hearing them for the first time in too long, though his hands were already working at divesting Charles of his shirt. "It's nothing you haven't heard before," he replied. "Things like I miss you, and I love you, and I'm happy here."

Charles couldn't seem to stop smiling, his fingers tracing over the hem of Erik's shirt before shifting to pull it off, "I do like hearing them. I love you so very much."

Erik had to kiss him again for that. "I can't believe it most days," he breathed. "But you would have to to put up with me."

"There's no 'putting up with' here, Erik. Not in that direction."

Erik chuckled, and considered how best to get Charles from where he was toward the bed.

"I can walk. It just involves you actually releasing me enough for us to move," came the amused answer to the thoughts.

"I could carry you," Erik murmured into his ear. "I like doing it, but if you... would rather..."

"I never thought I'd say this, but I miss you carrying me," Charles' breath brushed against Erik's throat as he answered.

Laughing at that, Erik scooped him up, still careful as if he was going to break Charles' legs again.

Charles' arms wrapped around his neck, shaking his head, "I need to be careful, it doesn't mean I'm made of glass."

"You aren't supposed to pick up on all my stray thoughts," Erik muttered, a little darkly. "I just," he shook his head. Yes, guilt still twisted his stomach, his fault or not, though Charles had scolded him enough times for dwelling on it. So he didn't dwell, but he still thought, and his stomach still twisted.

Charles leaned in and kissed him again, "It's the link. I haven't had enough practice keeping our minds untangled when we're in this much contact since it's been in place."

Erik managed to laugh at that. "Alright. Read my thoughts then, you'll just hear how much I love you."

"Good." The professor leaned in for another kiss, his arms still wrapped around Erik's neck.

Erik finally got them to the bed, being distracted on the way by Charles in general, kissing him. Charles lay back, pulling Erik down with him. One of his hands moved to rest on the other's hip as the other hand went up to tangle in his hair again.

X-X-X

Erik stroked a hand across Charles' back in the early morning light. He'd awoken early, and was enjoying laying entangled.

Charles blinked himself awake, glancing up at the other man, but not moving more than that, "Good morning, Erik."

"Charles," he greeted, hands not stilling in their motions.

"Merry Christmas."

Erik kissed his temple. "Happy holidays," he murmured, perhaps on the side of snarking.

Charles rolled his eyes, "I love you."

"And I still love you this morning as well," Erik replied, happily. "When do you need to be back?"

"Honestly? I should have been back last night. I should leave around noon probably."

"That's rather far from now," Erik hummed.

"It is indeed." Charles tilted his head up enough to kiss Erik's jaw.

Erik huffed, still close to laughter. "Another chess game perhaps?"

"So soon after waking up?"

"Or we could do something else first," Erik murmured into his ear, mostly teasing.

Charles' lips curled upwards, "You're teasing again. Chess sounds like a good idea."

Erik ran his hand down Charles' side and up his back. "This soon after waking up?" he asked.

Charles arched at the touch, "You need to make up your mind, Erik." He chuckled, untangling enough to lean up and kiss Erik's temple.

"I have so many wonderful options before me," he chuckled. "It's hard to decide."

The telepath chuckled, sliding down a bit further, trailing kisses down Erik's jaw and throat, his hands running down the other's side, "Is it?"

"Well, you're making it a great deal easier at the moment," he admitted.

That got a grin as Charles continued his ministrations, "Good to hear."

Erik reached forward, tilting Charles' chin up to kiss him. Charles rested a hand against Erik's chest, the other bracing against the mattress as he leaned up, pressing into the kiss. Grinning into it, Erik shifted, pulling Charles closer to him lazily on the bed. Charles made a soft sound at that, deepening the kiss and sending his emotions coiling through the link.

Still grinning, Erik hummed into the kiss, the sheets still a little undone from the night before. Shifting himself to lay more on top of the other, Charles smirked slightly. Grinning, Erik ran his hands down Charles' spine again. Charles arched at that, moaning softly into the kiss. Still smirking, Erik continued his ministrations of Charles.

* * *

><p>Hello, folks! Have a heaping dose of Charles and Erik for your current update. So, Charles is walking now. We're working off the idea that Comicverse!Charles regained the use of his legs a couple of times (admittedly through different means than we used) and that Hank and Charles have far more advanced tech and the like than most, if not all, medical facilities at the time. Meadowlark's headcanon says that the bullet didn't fully sever the spine either so there were some neural pathways still working, etc. Either way, we are asking you to suspend a good deal of disbelief for the sake fo trying to make the films fit their own continuity.<p>

We wanted to thank all of you who have taken time to review, it really does help us get through long days at school and work to know that people are looking at our work and care enough to let us know what they think (one way or the other).


	30. Love, War, and Snowball Fights

_Christmas Day, 1963_

The mansion had woken that morning with more people in it than the year before, though both Charles and Erik were missing this time. There were gifts to be given, and the left over gingerbread Sean had insisted on, and press-ganged the other students into making, to be eaten.

The gift exchange under the tree had been somewhat awkward, at least to Hank, since he really had no idea what to possibly give Sage or Bishop. Warren had a pile under the tree from his wealthy family who barely bothered to write but apparently wanted their son to have the best of material goods.

Hank watched the children and Sage and Bishop, and especially Alex, before rising and going to get a start on breakfast.

Alex watched the scene unfold at the Christmas tree. Sean had gotten a simple, yet thoughtful gift from his family and Betsy and Brian had received gifts in the shipment from home, and a letter to let them know their parents would be over in a couple of weeks to see how they were settling in.

He glanced at Sage and Bishop while trying to ignore Charles' conspicuous absence. He finally rose, grabbing a small gift from where he'd stashed it in the tree branches and followed Hank.

Having stashed something in the kitchen as well, Hank smiled as he glanced back at Alex, blue fur rippling in the morning light from the windows.

Alex leaned on the door frame, grinning slightly at him, "Merry Christmas, Hank."

Hank grinned and leaned closer to also say, though quietly. "Happy anniversary, too."

Alex smiled, leaning up to give him a quick peck, "Happy anniversary."

"And Merry Christmas," Hank laughed, almost wishing he could pursue the kiss but not daring. "Eggs?" he offered, cheekily.

That got a quiet laugh, "We managed not to burn them last year, so I think eggs are probably a safe plan this year too."

"I believe so," Hank said with a laugh. "I still can't believe we didn't burn them."

"If we had we would have had to explain why we had though," Alex reminded.

"This is a remarkably valid point," Hank murmured, brushing a hand over Alex's shoulder. "Would you like your, well, gifts? I couldn't decide between the anniversary and Christmas so you get both."

The younger man's brows rose, "You really didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," he said quietly, smiling. "It's traditional isn't it?"

"I guess it is," Alex offered him a smile in response, withdrawing the gift he had hidden. "It's not much..."

Hank managed to bite back some completely cheesy line about Alex being gift enough and handed Alex the two gifts he had.

Alex ran his fingers over the paper on the packages, glancing up at Hank again before carefully unwrapping the gift labeled for Christmas. He grinned a bit at the car repair tools inside, "You know me well."

"I would hope so," Hank replied, checking on the eggs before his own gift.

Alex considered the second gift, but hesitated slightly. The significance of it was enough to make him pause. A year. It had been a year and they'd been through a lot, not as much as the previous year it felt like, but still. A year.

Hank shifted slightly more toward the other along the counter before opening his own gift. He blinked at the silver, monogrammed comb and brush and smiled, shaking his head and rolling his eyes all at the same time.

Alex looked a bit sheepish, "If you like I can exchange them." He carefully opened the second gift, his eyes widening at the watch inside, "Hank...this is a _really_ nice watch."

"Well," he said, a bit awkwardly. "Yes? I may, have, well, made a few adjustments. And... no. I like them," he nodded, but was still shaking his head slightly. "You're the one stuck using them."

"Adjustments?" A brow arched at that, "Are you going to explain those or am I figuring them out on my own?" His gaze drifted to the comb and brush, "I suppose I am at that."

"Well, it gives you the date too, and it could be used as a tracker if you turn it on," Hank said, pointing to an extra little lever. "Not...that I'm as possessive as that implies but I just... thought it could be useful."

Alex laughed, "No, it's quite useful. Thank you, Hank."

Hank glanced around, kissing his temple and pulling back. "Thank you."

The blond reached up to run a hand over Hank's fur, "You're welcome. Merry Christmas and Happy Anniversary."

Swallowing, Hank went back to make sure the eggs were not burned and that there would be enough food for everyone. "Any other plans for today?" he asked, trying not to think about Charles.

Alex shook his head, "Not at this point, no. Avoid any questions regarding where the Prof is?"

"Yes, well, that," Hank sighed. "Will be a joy with Betsy."

"She's not the one I'm concerned about diverting from the questions," Alex admitted. "Can I give you a hand with anything in here?"

"If you like," Hank replied. "Maybe some bacon too?"

"I can do that." He located the bacon and got to work on making that, glancing at the other, "What do we tell them if they ask? Besides 'we don't know' cause I doubt Sage would buy that. And Bishop won't either."

"He's seeing an old friend, it's a tradition of theirs," Hank replied.

Alex's brow arched, but he nodded slightly, "That works."

"It's true too," he said. "They don't need to know who or how."

"It is true, just wish we'd had a bit more warning he was going to do this, though."

Hank managed not to roll his eyes. "Rather."

Sean stuck his head into the kitchen, "Hey, I'm taking votes, you guys up for a snowball fight after breakfast?"

Hank arched a brow at Alex. "Sure?"

Alex shrugged, "I don't mind." He considered for a moment, "No powers, right?"

Sean grinned at that, "I'll double check, but I think that was the deal."

"I would hope so," Hank rolled his eyes. "Or Warren would dive bomb all of us."

Sean laughed, but nodded, "Besides, Brian still hasn't gotten his so we have to keep it fair."

"I do wonder what those will be," Hank mused, finishing the last of the eggs.

Sean leaned against the wall, "Sage did say it wasn't mental, right?"

"Yeah," Hank nodded, dishing the eggs up to take to the dining room. If they were all eating together it made more sense.

"Well, that's good at least, if what I've heard about their brother's is true." Sean glanced at the eggs and at the bacon that Alex was putting on a plate, "I'll go let the others know that breakfast is ready."

"Thank you," Hank replied. "Do you mind taking out the orange juice when you go?" he asked, not above recruiting others for chores.

Banshee grinned, "Slave driver," but grabbed the orange juice. "I'll send Warren to give a hand with the dishes." He slipped out of the kitchen.

"Thank you," Hank called after him.

Sean stuck his head into the front room, "Hank and Alex are finished making breakfast, Warren, you want to grab some plates and cups and utensils?" He ducked back out and headed for the dining room before the other could protest.

Warren gaped at him, wondering if he could make Bishop or Brian do it instead, too scared of Sage and not thinking it gallant to ask Betsy. No, he was scared of Bishop too. Muttering, he went to do that.

Sage actually smiled at that before glancing at Brian and Betsy, "There're probably enough dishes that he could use a hand."

Betsy was on her feet and headed to help before Sage finished speaking, Brian following simply to keep an eye on Warren around his sister.

Hank hid a smile at that behind his plate of eggs, going to the dining hall and presiding over the table.

Alex grinned, not even bothering to hide it as he took the bacon to the dining room, "Eight plates, glasses and forks, and don't forget the napkins, Warren."

Warren just about growled at him before complying. "Where's the professor anyway?"

Betsy opened her mouth to answer, but Alex cut her off, "He's visiting an old friend. It's a tradition of his on Christmas."

"They don't get to see each other often, and don't have much in the way of family," Hank added. At least it was true.

Sage's brow arched as she entered the dining room and heard that, but she didn't comment, taking some glasses from Brian to set on the table. Hank's eyes flickered to her, glad she wasn't saying anything. The table was soon set and they all sat down to enjoy the breakfast.

X-X-X

Alex laughed, forming another snowball and throwing it at Sean, catching him off-guard and earning him a mock-glare from the redhead, "I cry foul!"

"All's fair in love, war, and snowball fights," Alex retorted.

"Snowball fights are war now?" Hank asked, having managed to hit Warren's back. The other boy shrieked and looked very put out at not being able to use his wings.

Betsy scored a hit on Hank's shoulder, smiling brightly, "Apparently."

"There's a lot of back stabbing going on," Hank replied, carefully crafting a ball to get back at Betsy with. His thick fur would be a pain to comb later, but it was keeping him quite warm.

Brian chuckled at that as he ducked one that Alex was throwing, causing it to catch Hank's shoulder as well.

"What is it with everyone and my shoulders?" Hank moaned, getting back at Brain too with a carefully aimed throw. He couldn't really turn his agility off so that gave him an almost unfair advantage.

Betsy stopped, her gaze turning toward the entrance to the grounds. Sage rose from where she'd been watching from the front steps, "Betsy?"

The girl glanced up at her, "Someone just pulled in."

Hank's ears flickered forward and his entire posture changed before he abruptly broke for the house.

"Can you tell me anything else about the person?" Sage asked quietly. The girl shook her head. "Can you try?"

Betsy closed her eyes, hands moving to her temples, "He's here to see...to see.."

"Charles?" Sage supplied.

The girl shook her head, opening her eyes and looking at Alex, "To see you."

Alex's eyes widened and he headed for the house after Hank.

Hank had rushed up the stairs all at once, getting the image inducer on before Alex could even really get inside, and came just as quickly down the stairs, trying to smooth down his induced image's hair. Seeing Alex, he paused. "Alex?"

"Whoever it is is here to see me." He swallowed, stepping over to glance at his reflection in the mirror, "I'm trying not to think who that could be."

Hank moved over, quickly adjusting Alex's shirt and hair. "Oh."

"I mean, who knows I'm here? The CIA, the cops..." He turned to look at Hank, a glint of panic in his eyes.

"Breathe," Hank soothed. "We'll figure this out."

He drew a shaky breath, "R-right." He settled himself down and stepped out of the mansion again.

Hank bit the inside of his lip, remembered why he'd made himself break that habit when his teeth cut the skin there, and followed Alex out.

The car Betsy had sensed pulled to a stop and a slender brunet stepped out, his brown eyes scanning the area. Alex absolutely froze at the sight.

Hank just about bumped into his shoulder, having been walking behind him. "He doesn't look like the CIA or anything like that," Hank offered quietly.

"H-He's not."

The man's eyes lit as he spotted Alex, "Alex, it's been a long time."

Alex forced a smile, swallowed hard and took a step away from Hank, "Hey, Chris."

Hank's eyes widened and he looked back at Alex before at Chris. Warren had fled the scene earlier but Bishop had walked up to the car, a ways back from Hank and Alex, but his arms crossed over his chest, watching the newcomer.

Chris neared, his smile genuine, though he didn't seem to notice his brother's wasn't, "God, it's taken ages to track you down."

"It's good to see you, Chris."

Hank glanced around the remains of the snowball fight and backed off enough to stand a bit closer to Bishop, hoping he wasn't going to end up growling at anyone again.

"How have you been, Alex?"

"Pretty good. You?"

"Been doing well, engaged now, but you knew that right?"

Alex nodded, "Yeah. What brings you here?"

Chris withdrew an envelope from his pocket, "Wanted to get you an invite to the wedding."

"You could have mailed it." Alex tried really hard not to miss Hank's presence at his side.

Finally Hank moved forward again, considering the fact he really couldn't shake Christopher's hand, shoving them in his pockets and thinking of being germaphobic as an excuse. "Hello," he greeted quietly. "I'm Doctor Hank McCoy. It's nice to meet you," he added, glancing quickly at Alex.

Christopher startled at that, looking at the other man in confusion, "Christopher Summers. I'm Alex's older brother."

Alex offered Hank a faint smile and then glanced at Chris, "Hank's one of the professors here."

"It's good to meet you," Hank said, and managed to not sound at all strained.

"Good to meet you too." He glanced at Alex, "I gotta admit I was surprised to hear you were in a school. Aren't you finished with school yet?"

Alex nodded, "Finished in June."

"What are you doing now?"

"What do you mean?" He glanced at Hank for a bit of reassurance.

"You're done with school, what's next?"

"I don't know."

Chris frowned at that reply.

Hank glanced back at Alex and realized he had no good answer for that either, and for a brief moment panicked about what Alex was planning on doing. "So far he's been helping out with setting the school up," Hank said quickly, as soon as his brain came up with it. "We are just starting out, after all, and we need help not only with the students but also mechanical... things." Which was almost a lie since Hank took care of most of that. But the cars were all Alex's work.

Chris' brows rose sharply at that, his tone sounding skeptical as he looked at Alex, "Mechanically minded then?"

"Yes," Alex murmured in response.

"And when the school's set up?"

"What do you mean?" Alex's posture became more defensive the longer the conversation went on.

"You've got a high school diploma, Alex. I assume you do anyhow, but anything certified to teach with?"

The blond swallowed, "I don't know yet. Maybe a garage somewhere," he half-lied.

Hank could more and more feel his fur start to bristle and even Bishop was starting to look a little put off from where he was standing a few paces away, still with his arms crossed. He hated to invite the other inside but—"Maybe we can continue this inside?" he offered, through gritted teeth. "Eat some gingerbread, have something to drink, catch up a little." It was rude to suddenly show up and demand someone's life plans, damn it.

Chris glanced at him and then nodded slightly, "If you don't mind, of course, Alex?"

Alex forced another smile, "Why would I mind?"

Hank managed not to point out the obvious, and led the way inside instead, Bishop trailing behind like an over paranoid, massively powerful watch dog.

Sage watched them go before shooing the others off toward a further area where Warren could join them in a continued snowball fight.

Alex followed Hank into the kitchen, offering Chris a chair. His older brother looked him over for a moment, "So a garage?"

"Maybe."

"You need any help with that?"

"No." His response came quickly enough that Chris looked at him in surprise.

Hank puttered around the kitchen like usual, sweeping the brush set that was still on the counter out of sight before finding the orange juice and the gingerbread. God, he felt like a housewife. Bishop planted himself in another chair, picking up a newspaper, somewhat wary of having a human stranger around.

"How'd you get a position here, Alex? The prison mentioned that the government had released you, but 'gifted youngsters'?"

Alex shrugged, "I got in on a scholarship. My imprisonment wasn't justified."

Hank realized their excuses really didn't stand up to anything here. Yes, they had recruited a cab driver, a scientist, a stripper, and a few that could be counted as students. That was before "gifted youngsters" had come into play but still.

He set the orange juice and gingerbread down on the table between the brothers and hovered, unsure what else to do. "He is very bright," Hank offered to attempt to explain the scholarship.

Chris glanced at Hank and then back at Alex. Alex nodded, "And that mechanically minded bit. They thought I'd be an asset to the school."

"Good for you," came the reply.

"I'll just," Hank flailed and hadn't felt this stupid since going to Harvard at the age of eleven. "Wash the dishes," he settled on, going to take care of the morning plates.

Chris looked around at the others in the room besides his brother, "Alex, do you mind if we talk privately?"

"Actually? Yeah, k-kinda. I don't know you, Chris. Not enough to talk alone."

The brunet frowned at that, "We're-"

"Not family." Alex finished.

Hank just about broke the dish he had between his hands, musing that he was getting a couple blue hairs in the sink and winced.

Christopher's frown deepened, "You're my kid brother, like it or not, Alexander."

"Brothers actually keep track of each other. I've heard from you once a year for the last six years. And last year the prison had to forward on your gift."

"Hey Ha—" Warren popped his head into the kitchen from the other door and froze. "Never mind." Hank was making half frantic shooing motions at him, glad of Warren's habit of never actually fully entering a room.

Chris looked up in surprise, his brows rising sharply again, he looked back at Alex, "_You_ got a scholarship to a school that the Worthingtons send their son to?"

Alex's gaze dropped to his glass of orange juice at that, simply nodding, "That's what I said."

Warren opened his mouth to say something to that and Hank pointed a finger at him. "Warren, whatever you wanted, you can get it in a minute, alright?" Warren pouted at him and Hank did not look impressed.

Chris shook his head, rising, "Well, I should go. Think about the wedding. Katherine would love to meet you," his tone indicated that he wasn't certain why.

Hank just about growled at him. It seemed like a remarkably short visit, even though it was awkward as hell.

Alex offered Chris a slight smile, rising with him and holding out his hand, "It was good to see you, Chris."

"And you, Alex. Take care."

Bishop ruffled the newspaper he had been hiding behind.

Chris headed for the hall and then out to his car.

Once he was gone, Hank glanced down at Alex and Warren finally entered, flickering his wings and heading for the hot chocolate. "I didn't expect him to be in the kitchen," Warren muttered under his breath.

Alex swallowed, not meeting anyone's eyes, "I...if anyone needs me I'll be in the bunker." With that he slipped out of the kitchen, heading for the stairs.

Bishop and Warren looked at each other but Hank was already following Alex. "Alex..."

He didn't stop, but he slowed his pace a little, "What?"

Hank reached forward, resting a hand on Alex's back. "I'm not going to ask if you're alright but... that's the only question that really gets the sentiment across."

He offered a faint smile at that, pausing and looking up at the other, "Thanks. I-I just need some time, Hank. I'll be fine."

He rubbed his hand in a small circle on Alex's back anyway. "Alright."

Alex finally turned and hugged the other, resting his head against Hank's chest, "God, I..."

The front door opened again, Chris having left his gloves on the kitchen table. He froze at the sight of his brother wrapped in another man's arms.

* * *

><p>Hey, all! So Christopher Summers has finally made his first appearance. It's not going to be the last we'll see of him, and even after his last cameo the effect he has will be profound on both his brother and a couple of other characters.<p>

Meadowlark here for a bit more of a note. First I wanted to apologize for the fact that the story's been relatively slow updating (we've hit a bit of a writer's block, but it's starting to clear up so that shouldn't be too much longer. I also had to deal with massive amounts of work this week and I'm the one in charge of updating this one so sorry about that). Secondly, we wanted to thank all of you who are reading, and a special thanks to those of you who are reviewing.

So, finally, I wanted to ask you all a huge favor. VS is in the midst of studying for finals and her finals week and it really cheers her up to see /any/ sort of review, so if you could just click on that review button and let us know if you liked it or even if you didn't. We've got the anonymous reviews enabled so you don't even have to bother logging in. I'd really appreciate helping cheer her up as she's dealing with the last couple weeks before she can come home for break. We've both gotten a little behind on replies and I apologize for that, I shall do my best to reply to all the reviews I can for this chapter.

Thank you, all! Hope you enjoyed, and for those of you in the US, hope you had a great Thanksgiving!


	31. We've Got a Good Family

_Christmas Day, 1963_

Hank jumped backward slightly at that, not quite the reaction he might have had once but moving too quickly for any human to really pull off. "You forget something?" he managed.

Alex paled at his brother's appearance as Chris looked from one to the other, "My gloves."

"Should still be in..." Hank froze. Warren was still in the kitchen. Today was getting better and better.

Chris started for the kitchen, Alex moving to intercept him, "I'll go get them for you."

"No need to bother yourself, Alex. You look like you're busy."

"Busy?" Hank squeaked. "We're not, there's not, it's not..."

Chris arched an eyebrow, "Really?" He turned to his younger brother, "How long?"

"H-how long what?"

"Have you been seeing guys."

"I'm not."

"Really?" The brunet didn't sound like he believed that one bit.

At that moment Warren decided to step into the hall, going to fetch Betsy, and probably the other boys, in for hot chocolate. He froze, wings ruffling. "He's still here," he managed, looking Hank.

"Yes," Hank replied. "Yes he is."

"Well, at least you still have your—" Warren bit the sentence off at Hank's look.

Chris' eyes widened at the sight of the wings, "'Gifted', huh?" His gaze locked on Alex's, "You 'gifted', brother?"

"I-I..."

"You're being an ass," Hank growled, not quite low enough to be what he'd done to Bishop while wearing the inducer, but voice dangerously low.

"I'm being lied to, too," Chris replied.

Alex glanced at Hank, murmuring softly, "It's fine, Hank." He turned back to his brother, "Yes, Christopher. I am gifted."

Chris frowned, but finally nodded, "I'm grabbing my gloves. RSVP for the wedding by the sixth." He ducked into the kitchen, eying Bishop warily before grabbing the gloves and finally actually leaving, the door all but slamming shut behind him.

Alex's shoulders slumped as he finally heard the car pull away, "I-I'm going to the bunker."

Hank looked over at him and nodded slowly. "You'll... you'll not stay too long?" he asked, voice small. His hands were clenched so tightly behind the image inducer he'd broken the skin of his palms.

"I...I won't. I'll be out before sundown."

Hank's mouth twisted down hard at that, but he nodded a little mutely.

"I-I'm sorry, Hank."

"You're sorry?" he asked, frown only deepening.

"I wasn't expecting him."

"That wasn't your fault he decided to show up," Hank replied, looking away.

"I-I know. I...I could stay up here if you'd like."

Hank glanced down at where his claws had broken the skin of his palms, which were starting to bleed. That was apparently something the image inducer did not actually show, though he could feel it. "It's up to you," he said, and headed upstairs to find bandages. Alex hesitated, part of him wanted to be alone, but another part knew he should go after Hank.

Finding the bandages weren't hard, and Hank sat down on the edge of his bed, having to turn the inducer off to actually wrap his own hands. He kept his claws all but filed down, but apparently they were still quite sharp.

After a very long moment Alex finally followed Hank upstairs, slipping into Beast's room, "Oh, Hank... Let me help with that."

Hank glanced up at him and then down again. "I thought, I didn't..." he started and just shook his head.

The blond moved over, sitting next to him and taking the bandages and one of Hank's hands, "Didn't...?"

"I thought I wasn't going to be able to hurt people with these," Hank murmured, running his thumb over one claw on that hand.

"You won't though. You're careful, Hank," Alex replied softly.

"Except when I want to punch your brother? If I had I probably would have sent him through a wall."

"But you didn't."

"I just cut up my own hands instead," Hank said, still looking away.

Alex finished bandaging the first hand, reaching up to rest a hand on Hank's cheek, "Hank..."

He finally turned back. "How are you doing?" he asked, changing the subject entirely, or hoping to.

"I…" Alex sighed, "I'll be alright."

The larger nodded at that, looking down at his hands. "Alright."

The blond turned to wrap his other hand, "He's always been like that."

"That doesn't make it better," Hank said, watching their hands.

"N-no, but it does make it expected. Give me a bit and I'll be back to myself again."

"Alright," Hank managed. "You know, next year Christmas might actually just be a nice day..."

Alex managed a smile at that, "It was last year."

"Life changing though," Hank replied, actually returning the smile though it was strained.

Alex tied off the second bandage, leaning his head against Hank's shoulder, "In a good way."

Hank nodded. "Yeah, in a good way." He leaned his cheek against Alex's hair.

X-X-X

Charles pulled his car up to the mansion about thirty minutes after Christopher Summers had left. He got out and made his way carefully inside, reaching out gently to sort the turmoil he felt, but not prying.

Bishop was still in the kitchen, newspaper out in front of him. He acknowledged Charles with a tilt of his head. "You missed the excitement," he said. "Did you enjoy your visit?"

Charles paused at the door to the kitchen, nodding slightly, "I did. What happened here?"

"Alex's brother stopped by. He managed to ask awkward questions and then figured out not only were Hank and Alex together in a way he didn't approve of, but also that Alex was a mutant like Warren, who managed to walk into that conversation," Bishop said, ruffling the paper after he turned the page.

Charles ran a hand through his hair, "Good God, I was only gone over night... I didn't even know Christopher Summers could find this address."

"Apparently he did," Bishop said, something dark hiding behind his eyes again.

Charles caught the look and frowned, "What?"

Bishop ruffled the paper again. "I don't like humans being able to find us," he said finally. "No, don't start or give me that look, I don't hate humans like Shaw did. But I don't trust them. And I certainly don't trust Christopher Summers considering the way he reacted to his brother."

"I wasn't going to start on that. I was going to agree with you. I have done my best to set up protections, but I can only do so much. From what I've picked up from Alex, no I haven't pried about this, I can't say I trust him either. Just because I believe that someday we can coexist with them does not mean I trust them, Bishop," the telepath shook his head slightly. "We'll have to find how he located us. What did he say?"

Considering him a moment, Bishop shook his head slightly and shrugged. "I'm not sure. About how he found us you mean?"

"In part, but mostly I'm concerned about what has both Hank and Alex in such a state upstairs."

"That would be Christopher walking in on them being intimate—in the hallway which was not their best choice but I can't blame them—and things happened?"

Charles shook his head, "Alex is closing in on himself, I've felt it before. He does it from time to time but not like this, usually. Hank's frightened, worried. I haven't felt him like this since the beach."

Bishop's brows rose. "Then I'm not entirely sure. You go talk to them," he offered.

Charles looked at him for a long moment before finally nodding, "Alright. Merry Christmas, Bishop." He spoke the words, but they sounded rote to his own ears.

Bishop snorted and nodded. "Yeah, Merry Christmas."

The telepath sighed softly before slipping out of the room, making his careful way up the stairs and tapping very lightly on Hank's door.

Swallowing, Hank looked up at the door and back to Alex. "I think it's Charles."

Alex sighed, pulling away from Hank, glancing at him before calling, "It's open."

Charles opened the door and stepped in, closing it softly, "I just heard. Are the two of you alright?"

"Fine," Hank replied, not consciously trying to hide the white bandages but keeping his hands low.

Charles' gaze flickered to the bandages, "I won't pry, I've given you both my word on that. But I will remind you that if you do need to talk I'm always available, and it will be kept in confidence."

Alex grimaced, muttering, "Won't pry mentally anyhow."

Hank glanced at him, and reached out to touch his shoulder gently, not sure what to say to either of them.

Their professor sighed again, "I'll leave the two of you be. Your emotions are strong enough that I was concerned, and still am." He looked directly at Alex, "Whatever he said that you're believing is a lie, Alex." His gaze flickered to Hank, finally having pinpointed what he feared, though not the specific cause of it, "And you, Hank, are one of the kindest souls I've met. You'll figure this out, just like you always do." Glancing between them once more he finally opened the door, "I'm going to check on the others, if you need anything let me know."

Hank glanced at Alex, swallowing. "Thank you, Charles," he said and didn't meet Charles' eyes.

Alex met the older man's eyes briefly but looked away, "Thanks. Merry Christmas."

Charles offered them a faint smile, "I'll see you at dinner?" When Alex nodded after a hesitation Charles finally slipped out of the room.

Letting out a long breath, Hank leaned back, glancing at Alex. "What did he say that you believed?" he asked quietly.

"It's not what he said, it's what he didn't say," Alex murmured before trying to change the subject. "Charles is right. You're kind, gentle. You're a teddy bear really, and you'll get this sorted. And I'll be right with you while you do."

Hank rested their foreheads together. "You're not getting away with changing the subject," he replied. "But... thank you. I just... feel like I took ten steps back without realizing. I'm still dangerous, I'm still a risk but..." he shook his head. "I just need to be careful and I'll be alright. With you," he added. "But you don't get to change the subject."

"We're all dangerous, Hank. Except maybe Warren unless you were to choke on one of those feathers. It comes with the territory, and you're always careful." He was adamantly ignoring the other subject at hand.

"Most of us aren't on the border between being a human or a mutant and actually nearly being a beast," Hank replied. "Two natures at war with each other, and all that."

"Then you need to find somewhere to let the beast run. You can't keep it all locked up all the time."

He took a deep breath and let it out again. "Alright," he said softly. "Now, what was it you weren't believing?"

"It's nothing Hank. I always have this reaction to Chris. It was less last year since it was just the gift."

"Please tell me?" Hank asked, meeting Alex's eyes and sounding like he was a heartbeat away from pleading.

The blond curled his arms around himself, finally speaking, "He's got this way of talking, of looking, that reminds me of where I fit. I'm the one they didn't want. I'm the one who ended up in prison. I'm the one who's not going to make something of himself. I'm the one who's a blight on the family. The list goes on."

From where he was still leaning toward the other, Hank gathered him up against his chest. "I love you."

Alex drew a shuddering breath, "A-and I still don't understand why, but I don't ever want you to stop."

"I really don't intend to. You know what?" He managed not to growl. "Those... bastards, really don't know what they're talking about, alright? Blood or not, they're a crappy family. You have us now."

That got him a small smile, "I'm glad. And, well, I...this one'll last."

"Yes," Hank assured him. "I mean, Warren and Betsy and Brian are those cousins who destroy the house whenever they show up, and Bishop is the stern uncle, and hell knows what Sage is... but we're here. And you're certainly stuck with me. So... he can just go... away."

That actually got a quiet laugh out of Alex, "What do we call Sean then?"

"Kid brother."

Alex snorted, "Yeah. I could live with a kid brother." He paused for a long moment, sobering, "It's not complete though."

Hank swallowed. "It's not?"

"It almost is. And it's a great family, I wouldn't trade it for anything. Don't sound so worried," he assured quietly. "But the dad and sister walked out last year."

"Maybe they'll be back someday," Hank said, swallowing hard.

Alex smiled almost sadly, "You really think that?"

"I hope so," he said. "If not, we'll get by on what we have."

"And what we have is amazing. I like it." He leaned against Hank, "We've got a good family."

"We do," Hank agreed. "So I don't care what your brother says, or doesn't, you have a family, and more importantly, not to be arrogant here but more importantly, I love you."

Alex tilted his head up and drew Hank down to him to kiss him, "And I love you."

* * *

><p>Well, we're posting the Christmas chapter in December, I call that good!<p>

Cheers all, a note from your author Victoriousscarf: Thank you everyone who mentioned my finals and wished me luck. It's been a long week and one more final to go... and then Grad School apps. But your support was lovely and thank you so much for that!

I would like to point out (because readers can't see this information) we're on the story alerts of 296 members and on the favorite lists of 180 users. That's a massive amount of support, even though it's not as public as reviews, and we thank everyone for that! This story can get a little twisty and turny and our original ideas about it have been changed slightly over the course of writing it. But we thank all our lovely readers, whichever form of feedback you leave! ((But we do love reviews because it gives us a bit more of an idea where readers are coming from XD))


	32. I'm Not Delusional Am I?

_January 1964_

Not long after the New Year, Charles entered his office to find Sage perched on one of the chairs waiting for him. "Good evening, Sage," the young professor looked her over. "What can I do for you?"

"Answer a puzzle for me, I hope."

"I will do everything I can in that respect," he circled his desk and settled down in his chair.

She shook her head, "Somehow I doubt that. You see, I'm sensing another mental signature. It feels like yours with a metallic edge."

"Well, Betsy has been sharpening her mind and working more with her gift."

"No it's not Betsy's." Sage frowned, "I have my suspicions about whose it is, but I was really hoping that you would tell me the truth."

"I can hardly tell you the truth about something I know nothing about," Charles replied, almost testily.

Sage frowned at that, "Alright. I'll get straight to the point, then. Where were you on Christmas Eve? And don't feed me that lie about spending it with an old friend. I don't care how technically true that may be."

The telepath's eyes widened very slightly before narrowing, "I don't see how that is any of your business."

"It very much is. Bishop and I are training the students to counter Magneto's team. If you are in contact with him, I need to know now. You could easily put us all in danger by continuing this liaison. The mental signature I have been feeling has been too consistent for it to be a single conversation or even two."

"You're making an awful lot of accusations based on assumptions."

"Allow me to make a few more. Although my gift does not permit me to know every detail of what yours does, it does allow me to make an educated guess as to the extent of your power. As such, it is my supposition that you are capable of creating mental links." She held up a hand to stop him interrupting, "Correct me if I get any of this wrong. I theorize that you believe yourself to be in love with Erik Lehnsherr, and as such you chose to create a connection you believed no one else could detect. You are mentally joined to him that such a way that no one but yourselves can separate it. So if Erik were to concentrate he could easily discover any plans that we might have of stopping him from causing further destruction. How am I doing so far?"

Charles' jaw tensed, "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really? So you aren't seeing him? He wasn't the friend you saw on Christmas? He hasn't been your lover this past year? You aren't in mental communion with him?"

"I…didn't say that. You don't understand. I'm hardly giving him secrets that would endanger the students."

"No, you're giving him uncontrolled access to their leader. You're so afraid you can't fix him that you're willing to make yourself completely open to attack."

"He wouldn't do that."

Sage looked unimpressed, "Erik Lehnsherr was trained as a soldier, a killer, a weapon. He is a broken man, Charles. You cannot save him, and if you continue to try you will do more harm than good."

"No one is too far gone they cannot be saved."

"You're delusional, Xavier. You see that and say that because you want to believe it. Because if it is true that people are too broken to be fixed, then you have to count yourself among them. If Lehnsherr can't be healed, neither can you. A broken, terrified, powerful child whose only comfort and support growing up walked out on him fifteen months ago because he was too broken to grant her the support she needed. A hopeless, fractured young man who never knew the love of a mother and only the pain of a step-father who hated and feared him. A brilliant mind that has nothing on which to hang its power, and so spirals into dark places the child fears."

Charles voice cut through coldly before she could say anything further, "I _strongly_ suggest you leave."

"I wasn't quite done."

"Yes. You were." His voice trembled slightly with the restrained emotion in it, "If you do not leave my office now, I will force my way past every single one of your shields and make you do so. If I find you in here again without my express permission you will spend the rest of your life a raving lunatic in an asylum. Now get out."

Sage rose gracefully, nodding, "Very well. Think about what I said, Charles. You put us all in danger when you're in contact with him." With those words she slipped out of the office, closing the door firmly behind her. She glanced back at Charles' office door before making her way down the hall and entering the room she was sure Bishop was in, "If there's anything that needs to be said to Xavier, you may have to do it."

Bishop glanced up from where he was writing in a notebook, seated at the desk facing the window. "What?" he asked, eyebrows raising and distorting the M tattooed over his eye.

She moved over, leaning against the desk, "Charles. You'll have to talk to him if we think of anything that he needs ot know about."

"What did you do?" he asked, sighing softly.

"I confronted him about the extra mental signature...And I called him delusional."

"You called Charles Xavier delusional?"

"Well, he is!" Sage shook her head, "The man is completely out of his mind."

"He's a great visionary," Bishop said slowly. "Besides, if you think that why are we even here?"

"Because I hadn't fully realized it. And you're right, he is a visionary. But in the midst of that he's delusional. It's not his dream that's wrong, it's _him_."

Bishop just blinked at his lover again. "How so?" he asked, trying to sound neutral.

She drew a deep breath, "I know he's an essential part of your history, but they left some things out I think. That third mental signature isn't a different mind power. It's a mental link."

"So?" Bishop asked, not commenting on his historical knowledge.

"It's metallic. Professor Charles Francis Xavier has a permanent mental link established with one Erik Lehnsherr. Because he thinks the man can be redeemed or some such thing."

That got a long blink out of Bishop, and he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Xavier is mentally linked with Magneto?"

Sage nodded, "Yes. He has opened his mind to the man."

"Is that really so terrible? No, Sage, hold on. I know at this point we're fighting the man who's set to destroy most of human kind if he had his way, but is it really so bad?"

"Bishop, think about what you're saying for a moment. The man in charge of this place is mentally linked with the man whose plans we're trying to put a stop to. How is this a good plan, on any level?"

Bishop paused for another long moment, considering. "Xavier, right now, he teaches the school. I thought we already went over that we'll be in charge of operations on the ground or any strike forces. No, I'm not saying this is ideal, but did you really think confronting the world's most powerful telepath with this was a good plan?"

Sage shrugged slightly, more shaken by her conversation with Charles than she wanted to let on, "I'm not saying it was my best plan, but it was something he needed to think about, or at least hear."

Bishop considered her a long moment before reaching a hand out and cupping the side of her face. "What happened? Besides you angering him I mean."

She sighed, her blue eyes meeting his gaze, "I may have overstepped with my assessment of him, which like it or not was accurate from what I've seen."

Nodding, Bishop accepted that for the moment. "I do not see him reacting well to that."

"Not especially, no. So, as I said it's probably best if you deal with him from here on out."

Looking annoyed for a moment, Bishop nodded again, sighing. "Sage..."

"Yes, Bishop?"

"Just be careful, would you?"

"I will be. I am. I just...worded my concerns in a way that was unacceptable to him."

Bishop didn't look impressed. "Dare I ask further?"

"He threatened to leave me a raving lunatic in an asylum should I entere his office again without his permission."

That got a long stare off Bishop, as if he was deciding whether to storm in there and lecture Xavier himself or inform Sage she really didn't know anyone's limits. Instead, he reached forward and drew her closer. "So, I'll deal with Xavier then from now on."

Sage paused for a moment before leaning against him, resting her forehead on his shoulder, "Thank you."

"It's what I'm here for, at least in many ways," he murmured, stroking her hair.

She drew a deep breath, her lips quirking upward into the closest thing she had to a smile at the moment, "Other things as well, but still."

"Still, it would be better for all involved not to have you end up there," he murmured.

"Granted. So I will avoid Xavier, hope he calms down, and avoid confronting him about anything for a good long while."

"Yes," Bishop said with a nod. "You do best with training students anyway or acting in the field. You're not really the best ambassador."

That earned a shake of her head as she drew back, "I see strategy and possible falsehoods a bit too easily..."

"No," he agreed, kissing her hair on her way back. "You really don't make a good ambassador. But where you are skilled you are highly so."

"Well, speaking of where I am skilled, I really should go see about monitoring some of the information channels. Hank was still talking about ways to make it so I can tap into them more easily."

Bishop considered for a moment and nodded. "Yes. That would probably be wise. But don't forget to relax on occasion too."

She leaned over again and brushed a kiss over his cheek, "I was considering taking the later evening off tonight."

"Good," he murmured. "I'm glad there are at least some here that you seem to get along with."

"It just takes time, Bishop. I am capable of getting along with people."

"I know," he said, almost offended for a moment. "But the fact that people such as Hank and some of the other students are ones you can actually open up to at all is good."

"Hank's a fine young man. Honest, charming, and perhaps a little to gentle for his own good in many ways. But nice enough."

Bishop laughed softly. "Sometimes, you need to stop analyzing and enjoy people. But yes, he rather is."

She smiled faintly, "That's like expecting you to not absorb energy from the sun."

Chuckling, he drew her closer, finally actually kissing her. "Well, since I want you to take the evening off I suppose that means you should actually get some work done now."

Sage actually truly smiled at that, finally, "Yes, I should go get some work done now if I'm to take the evening off."

"Off with you then," he said, offering her a smile.

She straightened and, offering him one last smile, strode out of the room to finish her plans for the day.

X-X-X

That night Charles lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He'd tried reading, going over the lists of things to be done still, considerations for potential students. Nothing was helping him shut off his thoughts over the conversation with Sage earlier. He couldn't seem to relax enough to go to sleep. He glanced at the clock. Past midnight. He wasn't going to get nearly enough sleep at this rate. Closing his eyes finally, the telepath reached out along the mental link, locating Erik and sinking into the remembered sensation of curling up in his arms, even as he settled comfortably in the emotional part of Erik's mind.

Erik meanwhile had been up late working, having had a plan for raiding a research facility blow up in his face earlier. He'd finally managed to curl up in bed, sighing as he stared at the somewhat sparse walls around him. Except suddenly there was another presence in his mind, warm and a little heavy, and he thought for a moment he could see the wood paneling at the mansion. _Charles?_

_Hm? Yes, Erik?_ Charles was sounding just the littlest bit drowsy as he finally found himself able to relax.

Erik couldn't help but smile softly. _Do you want something?_

There was what felt like a shrug in response, _Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd try this. If it's bothering you I can go back to my own mind._

_I'm not sure bothering me is the right way to put it,_ Erik returned with a shrug. _Perhaps just unexpected._ He drowsily ran a hand down what he imagined Charles' arm to be. _Is your hair still greying?_

Charles hummed contentedly at that, resting his head against where Erik's chest would have been, _Unfortunately, yes._

Erik chuckled. _Then you really should stop worrying_.

_I'm not worrying that much_, came the protest. _You are finding this far too humorous._

_Perhaps a little. What are you worrying about today then?_ Erik rumbled.

_Did I say I was worrying about anything? I just couldn't sleep._

_Which usually means you're worrying,_ Erik huffed.

Charles sighed, curling up a bit closer, _I'm not delusional am I?_

That got a long, shocked pause. _Excuse me?_

_Nothing. Never mind. It doesn't matter._ He started retreating into his own mind again, but slowly. He didn't really want to cut the conversation off.

Erik reached forward, yanking him back as much as he could. _Charles...?_

_It's nothing, Erik. I'm worrying about things that make no sense._

_Then you might as well tell me about them,_ Erik returned.

_I threatened to shatter someone's mind today. But she had a couple of points that I suppose make some sense...but..._ Charles shook his head, _I can't believe them._

There was a long pause. _You threatened that? Those must have been some points,_ Erik mused, voice soft.

_I might have overreacted. I'm not sure._

_Well, before you hear either way from me I'd have to hear what you were reacting too,_ Erik pointed out.

_I...it might be easier if I showed you..._

Erik paused, considering that before finally nodding. _Alright._

Charles considered how best to go about it before finally allowing parts of the memory to slip through the link.

Erik started snarling nearly the moment the memories slipped through. _Is she for real?_

_Erik, please... She was doing as she thought best._

_Which was to insult you and to..._ Erik paused for a long moment. _Do you think she was right?_

There was a long pause as Charles considered the question, _No. I don't. Not about you._

_Are you sure?_ Erik asked after a moment.

Charles sighed, _Which part of what she said about you are we talking about right now, Erik?_

_All of it,_ he murmured. _If she is right that we're out of our minds for trying this. We chose opposite sides of a war and we've been lying to ourselves every day since then._

_She's not right._ The telepath was adamant, _We chose opposite sides of the same coin. It's not the same thing as opposite sides of a war._

Erik paused a long moment, not saying what he was considering. _Perhaps._ It could so easily turn into a full out war though.

Charles sighed again, _I would rather this than nothing._

_As would I,_ Erik managed after a few more moments. _This means the world to me._ He hated to admit how much of that was true.

_I can't lose you again. No matter how selfish that may be. I just... I love you, Erik._

_I know,_ Erik replied, feeling for the first time a little uncomfortable with that. What use was love in the larger picture in issues like this? Shaking the thought off, he curled further around Charles. _And I you. We will figure it out._

Charles was about ready to retreat again, his plan for managing a bit of sleep had apparently gone out the window. He didn't want to think about the connotations of what Sage and now Erik had said. He knew he needed to, but he didn't want to think about the probable upcoming conflict, _Of course we will._

Erik paused a moment before twining himself more around Charles' mind and holding on. _How are the students?_ he asked, trying to distract himself and Charles as much as he could. Talking about the students tended to at least make Charles proud and happy.

_Hm? Oh. Alex is still reeling from Christmas, so is Hank, but they tend to react differently, so I'm not certain how much for either of them in that respect. Sean's getting much better with his voice. He's able to focus it finally. Warren's aerial maneuvers are extraordinary._ There was a faint smile in his voice, _Betsy's finally getting her power under her full control as well, or as much as a telepath can at that age._

_They all seem to be progressing well,_ Erik said, mentally stroking a hand through Charles' hair. _Relax now._

Charles focused on the touch, starting to relax a bit, _How are you and Raven doing?_

_Much the same,_ he replied. _Which is mostly well._

_I'm glad to hear that._

_I'm keeping her as safe as I can,_ Erik murmured, starting to finally feel drowsy himself, warm in Charles as long as he wasn't thinking too hard.

_I know. I appreciate it, so very much,_ Charles smiled sleepily, curling closer into Erik's mind.

_Sleep,_ Erik murmured. _You need it._

_So do you..._

_Well, yes, but I was fully intending to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow_, Erik laughed softly.

Charles smiled faintly at that, _Sorry about that. Sleep well, Erik._

_As with you_, Erik said, curling around him and finally drifting off to sleep.

* * *

><p>Hello, all! Terribly sorry about the length of time between updates this time, what with the holidays, and work, and getting set to return to school and life and all those other things, it took us a bit longer than expected. Apparently the break did our muses some good though, as Erik has ceased to completely ignore the issues he and Charles had been avoiding for the entirety of '63.<p>

So, here's to a new year in life, and a new year in the story. We'd love to hear from you, so if you could just take a minute and hit that little button that mentions "review" at the bottom of the page we'll do our best to get back to you quickly!

Thank you for reading, we hope you enjoyed it.


	33. I've Said My Part

Hank followed Alex outside of the bunker. "Alex!" he called. "Come on, it wasn't even that bad..."

The blond whirled at that, "Hank, I lit the bunker on fire again! I can't do this!"

"But," Hank started and adjusted his glasses. "We can always put fires out..."

"I'm making _no_ progress! What part of that are you missing?"

"But, I mean," Hank tried again, aware he was going to lose this argument. "You've made plenty of progress..."

"How? Give me a list of ways I've 'improved', Hank!"

"Well, I mean, you can control when your powers manifest..."

"Great, dandy. So my chances of accidentally blowing you up have decreased minutely."

"Alex, come on, if you're going to be like that then we never are going to progress!"

Alex scowled at him, "How do you want me to be then, Hank? I'm sorry! I don't see progress here, I'm a ticking time bomb and nothing's changing that!"

"But, it," Hank tried, leaning back slightly and adjusting his glasses again. "Being... being _angry_ about it all the time is only going to make it worse."

Alex looked at him for a long moment, "Anger's what I've got, Hank. I...you know what? Forget it. I can't do it, I just _can't_. I can't control it; I'm barely getting hold of it all the time with the adaptor. I'm going for a run." He turned on his heel and exited the mansion, the door slamming behind him.

Sean, who had been leaning on the banister of the stairs waiting for them to pass or finish, leaned further over the stair railing and looked at Hank, "You do know he channeled that power of his without the adaptor, right?"

Hank didn't seem to hear him a moment, staring forlornly after Alex. "Wait... what?" he asked, snapping his head around.

"Alex. Controlled and aimed his power. Without the adaptor," Sean shrugged. "I figured you knew."

"No, I..." Hank blinked, trying to figure that out. "Against _who_?"

"Angel. She'd taken out his adaptor and was gunning for us both. He aimed and hit her wing."

Hank blinked at that. "Oh. I must have still been dealing with the teleporter. Damn it."

"Anyhow, he can aim. And he can use it without his adaptor. It's still dangerous, but..." Sean shrugged, "I'm going to go see if I can locate Warren and make sure he's not getting into too much trouble."

Sighing, Hank pushed his glasses up and rubbed his hands. "Right, yeah, okay."

"Good luck," with that Sean slipped out, looking for Warren.

Hank just sighed again before stepping out of the mansion, and glancing around to figure out where Alex might have gone.

Alex had gone for a circuit around the mansion and had stopped on the other side of the building, leaning against the wall. He knew he shouldn't take his frustrations out on Hank, it wasn't his fault. He just got sick of dealing with the power.

Following not only his instincts but his sense of smell, Hank stopped several feet away. "Sean has informed me you've used your powers without the adaptor before, you know."

Alex looked up at that, "He what?"

"You've used your powers—well—without the adaptor before, according to him. On the beach."

"I..." he paused, thinking about that, "I did?"

"Apparently," Hank said, leaning against the wall and sliding down. "First time I've heard of it in the last year."

Alex drew his knees up to his chest, "That day's kind of a blur. I didn't really remember it."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Luckily someone did." Pausing, he reached what basically was a paw out to Alex, rubbing at his shoulder and neck. "You'll be fine. Powers like this... it takes so much time to control. Years. You can't give up after only one."

Alex sighed, "Did he say how I did it?"

"Um, you aimed and let off the blast. You might have to talk to him about it more."

The blond thought about that, leaning into Hank's paw, "I...think I might have to do that."

Hank smiled and nodded. "Yeah. He's actually grown more insightful and probably intelligent than I want to give him credit for."

"Maybe he was just holding out on us?"

"I think so," Hank said, smiling.

Alex offered Hank a faint smile, "Sorry I snapped at you. It...wasn't your fault."

"No, but it happens," Hank shrugged. "I hope none of this is my fault but... I can't really blame you for getting frustrated either."

"Still. I shouldn't take things like this out on you."

"I can handle it when you do," Hank murmured. "Not to say you shouldn't but... I won't break. And I'll still be here, okay? Just don't make this a habit."

Alex drew a deep breath before nodding, "Alright."

"Okay," Hank said, and nodded. "Good."

"Well...anyhow. What do you say to seeing how far we can explore the grounds before dark?"

"Um," Hank considered and then smiled, nodding. "We can try that. Maybe a thicker coat first?"

Alex smiled faintly at that, "Yeah, a thicker coat would probably be good."

"Alright, here," Hank said, pushing himself up and holding a hand out. "Shall we?"

The smaller man took Hank's hand and hauled himself to his feet, "I think so."

X-X-X-X

Warren was perched on the roof of the mansion, looking down at where he could see Betsy talking with Sage on the porch. Hank was lurking around somewhere too, but he was focused entirely on using his Christmas present from his father, the only mark of affection he'd gotten all year—a brand new camera.

Charles came out of the mansion, glancing up as he sensed Warren. He smiled faintly and made his way toward where Sean had set up some glass panes to practice with.

Tilting his head, Warren snapped a couple pictures of the professor too for the sake of different models, before taking off to find Hank.

Alex was perched on a garden wall, watching Hank, "So, what are you working on exactly again?"

"Something for Sage," Hank replied, not quite looking up as he was fiddling with something only about as big as his hand, enjoying the scant sunshine the winter day was offering.

The blond tilted his head at that, leaning in for a better look, "How's that going?"

"I think well?" Hank offered just as Warren landed behind him with a bright greeting and the technology went skittering across the floor as Hank jumped. "What?"

"Can you build me a dark room?" Warren asked, picking the device up, which was looking a bit mangled and holding it back out.

Alex's brows arched at that, "Dark room?"

"For photographs," Warren said, giving Alex a less than impressed look.

"You do know the best way to ask involves a 'please' and a not breaking what he's currently working on, right?"

Warren just huffed at Alex, turning all his attention back to Hank. "Well can you? Can you?"

"I... could..." Hank said, blinking at little. "Have you asked Charles about using a room yet?" Warren looked quite put out a moment.

"No..."

"Might do that first," Hank replied.

"Since it is his house after all," Alex supplied, rolling his eyes at Warren's behavior.

Hank glanced at Alex, supressing a smile as Warren took off, intending to do just that. "You two rub each other entirely the wrong way, don't you?"

"He's more than a little entitled. Has had everything handed to him and expects it to continue," Alex muttered.

"And you haven't so he annoys you," Hank said.

"Guess so."

Hank reached out, setting the device down carefully before touching Alex's hair. "He's not so bad."

Alex sighed, "I know. Doesn't mean I like him, though."

"Alright, I might let you get away with that," Hank laughed, but he was already considering how exactly to put together a dark room.

"Think you can manage a dark room on top of all the other projects?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'll figure out something," Hank said quietly. "After all, I'm not actually doing much besides projects right now."

"Which you're good at, but maybe should see about other things too?"

Hank blinked at him. "Like what?"

"I don't know...have you talked to Charles about...I dunno, actually teaching here or something?"

There was another long pause. "Teaching?"

"It's just a suggestion, but I think you'd be good at it."

"Well, I mean," Hank considered. "Maybe when we get a few more students. Strictly speaking I'm listed as a teacher but..."

"You could do it, I mean if it came down to it. It was just a suggestion though."

"Yeah," Hank said. "Thanks. It'll work out, I'm sure."

Meanwhile, Warren perched on a branch above Charles' head. "Hey!"

Charles tilted his head back to look at the teen, "Yes, Warren?"

"Can Hank make a dark room in the mansion? Also, I don't think Summer's likes me very much."

"Can he, or may he?"

"Well, he said to ask your permission before we did anything."

"I don't see why not. It could be useful to have one, potentially."

"Great!" Warren chirped, intending to fly off again.

"Warren, hold on a moment."

"Yeah?" he asked, glancing down.

"You and Alex really don't get along well do you?"

"Not really," Warren said with a shrug. "Why?"

"Your comment about him not liking you very much. You're from different worlds. You might both try remembering that."

"Sure, professor," Warren said, managing not to roll his eyes. "I will if he will."

Charles pinched the bridge of his nose, "Very well. That's all, go on Warren."

"Thanks, sir," he said, taking off again.

Charles shook his head and turned his attention back to Sean and the pracitce Banshee was doing.

X-X-X-X

Hank was seated in his lab a while later, looking at something through a microscope and taking notes.

Charles tapped lightly on the door which stood slightly ajar, "Hank?"

He sat up, nearly falling over in surprise. "Ah, Professor. Can I do anything for you today?"

The telepath shrugged, entering the lab, "Not really. I was just coming to see how you're doing."

"Oh, fine. Nothing really new here," Hank said with a shrug. "Everything alright with you?" He glanced down at Charles' legs, considering. "You might want to make sure you're still using a cane."

"Everything's fine with me. I've been using the cane pretty close to consistently. You, however, have been brooding somewhat over something."

"I hardly brood, I mean, I ignore issues and lock myself in my lab but..."

"Which you've been doing. Alright, so brooding isn't the right word, but it's the closest one I can find. Avoiding might be more appropriate."

"Oh, well, avoiding," Hank murmured. "Is there anything specific you wanted to bring up?"

"I'm hardly going to go delving into your mind for the issue you're avoiding. I was rather hoping you'd talk to me, or to someone about it before it blows up in your face later. But that is entirely up to you."

Hank gave the professor a long look. "That's... really quite vague actually."

Charles shrugged slightly, "I already said I won't go delving into your mind to be specific, but you've locked yourself away, taken on more projects than is even usual for you, and...well, mostly that's it. But I do rather wonder _why_."

"You do?" Hank asked, arching a brow. "Even a year later I would think it would be obvious."

The professor watched Hank for a moment, "I do see that problem, but as I said you're picking up even more projects than you have over the last year."

"Well I don't really have much else to do," Hank shrugged. "I can go around and pick up students, I could even attempt to teach some of them, but it's not like I can have much of a thriving social life outside of the mansion or anything else."

"Are you working with the others on training? It might give you something else to do as well."

"Train _what_?" Hank asked with an arched brow.

"Your strength, your agility, your speed. Just because it's innate doesn't mean it can't be honed."

"Honed, sure. Professor, I have _claws_. Are you going to tell me to train in melee weapons or something?"

Charles sighed, "No, Hank. But training how to avoid accidentally using them in the case of some sort of fight might not go amiss."

"I've already used up the Jekyll and Hyde metaphor," Hank murmured, glancing down at his hands.

"Then forget it," the professor murmured, leaning against the lab table. "Focus on something else, beyond Stevenson. It's not merely a matter of controlling the animal side, it's a matter of coming to terms with it as well. You're still human, Hank. Even if it doesn't always feel like it."

"Doesn't look much like it either," he murmured. So most days he could live with it, but that didn't mean he quite accepted it yet.

"Perhaps not, but perhaps that's not always a bad thing."

"Not always a bad thing?" Hank couldn't help but gape at him.

"No, hear me out, Hank. It makes life difficult, sometimes even impossible, when there's a visible difference between you and the next person. But at the same time there's an opportunity for growth, for you if not for them. You're a wonderful, brilliant scientist, Hank. You have people here who see you as _you_ not as _it_. You even have someone who loves you. You just have to find a way to work with your fears, not against them."

"Is that what you've been doing?" Hank couldn't help but ask. "Work with your fears?"

Charles dropped his gaze, "It's what I've found works in the past."

Pausing for a moment, Hank finally nodded. "I... I'll see what I can do."

"I'm here if and when you need anything, Hank. My door's always open."

"Yeah," Hank nodded. "Thanks."

Charles nodded slightly, pausing for another moment before slipping out of the lab. It was up to Hank to sort out his own problems, as much as the professor might wish otherwise.

X-X-X-X

Alex came into the mansion from the garage, wiping his hands off on a rag. He glanced at the clock, frowning slightly as Hank was usually in the kitchen or nearby at this time, "Hey, Sean?"

The redhead looked up from the book he was reading, "What?"

"You know where Hank is?"

"His lab."

"Again?" The blond looked confused.

"What do you mean 'again'?"

"He's spending a lot of time down there. It's kind of getting old."

Sean just stared at him for a long moment, "You are the biggest idiot I think I know."

"What?" Alex scowled at him.

"I cannot believe you just said that, anymore than I can believe I have to tell you this. You don't have a corner on the dangerous mutations here, Alex."

"Sean, get to the point."

"Hank. Come on, it has to have come up sometime right?"

"What has?"

"The fact that he's bigger, stronger, furrier, and has freaking _claws and fangs_? How do you think he's handling that?"

Alex shrugged, "I...well enough? I mean it's been a year..."

Sean looked about ready to beat the other over the head with something, "Yeah? How long have you had your power?"

"Fourish years."

"Have you come to terms with it? I don't think so. Hank's entire life turned upside down a year ago last October. He's trying, but you aren't picking up on it _at all_. It's painful watching you two, honestly. You bitch and moan about your power—I'm not saying some of it isn't justified, but for god's sake we get it already—and he listens quietly, does his best to comfort you about it. What do you do in return? Ignore the fact that he's terrified of himself."

"I..."

"I'm not done. Actually, never mind. I am done. I've said my part and you can take it to hell for all I care," Sean offered Alex a shake of his head as he finally rose and stormed from the room.

Havok stood, blinking at the seat Sean had just vacated for a long moment. He tried to process what the other had said and when it finally sunk in he tossed the rag in his hands aside and headed for the lab.

Hank was once again bent over the same microscope, considering a mutation of cells that Charles had brought to his attention a while ago, hoping that if he could figure this out he might be able to tune Cerebro to types of mutation as well as finding them.

Alex tapped on the door softly, "Hey..."

"Oh, hey," Hank said, glancing up and turning his gaze to the clock. "Oh. It's just about dinner time isn't it? Give me a minute to finish up and I can start cooking..."

"Sean and Charles can handle dinner tonight I'm sure. Sean might even press-gang Warren into it if we know him."

"Oh, why?" Hank asked, blinking.

"Because I think we need to talk?"

"Oh," Hank blinked again. "That's rather abrupt. Did something happen?"

"Not really?"

Hank just continued blinking at him. "Alright. We're talking. About what then?"

Alex hauled himself up to sit on the lab table, "How are you doing?"

If possible Hank just looked more confused, though he leaned back. "Fine. I mean, as fine as I can figure. Is there a reason I shouldn't be?"

"Not saying there is."

"Then... why are you asking?"

"Because it's the sort of thing that should be asked once in a while?"

That got a small nod out of Hank. "Well, things haven't really changed much recently..." he tried.

"Not sure that's _really_ an answer."

"Well, what do you want me to say, Alex?" Hank said, almost snapping. "Things haven't been changing. We've been getting a trickle of students in, Charles is still running off with Erik, I'm still blue and furry with claws, and we're not really progressing much. I don't mean you and I, I mean this entire campus."

Alex managed not to flinch, "Well, that's a start. The student thing will change, the school's only just gotten started, really. Less than a year. Charles and Erik...they're a law to themselves, and there's nothing to be done there though God knows they shouldn't be." He drew a deep breath, sliding a bit nearer to the other, "Yeah, you're blue and furry, and yeah you have claws that even dulled are sharp, but it's something that you can learn to work with. You can figure out how to control some things about it."

"Control? What about this is controllable?" Hank asked. "Do you remember the fuss I put up about not being able to take my shoes off? And you want this to be controllable?"

"I'm not talking about your appearance, Hank. You told me back when Chris showed up that you wanted to hit him, and it could have sent him through a wall. The fact that you didn't means you control your temper a hell of a lot better than a lot of people. And look around, when's the last time you broke a beaker because you put too much pressure on it? You instinctively control your strength for small things. You could do it on a bit of a larger scale too."

"And when I stop being able to?" Hank asked in a small voice.

"There shouldn't be a when there, Hank. Maybe an 'if', but not a 'when'. You don't know you would stop being able to," Alex hesitated before placing a hand on the other's shoulder.

Hank glanced at the hand. "And when I have a nightmare and end up clawing you up?"

"You won't."

"I could."

"And I could discharge a plasma blast into your chest, but I haven't. And you won't. You haven't so far, and I'm pretty sure we'd wake up before anything drastic actually happened."

"It just..." Hank sighed softly. "I'm sure you're right but..."

"But it's something you worry about. You're bigger, stronger than you used to be, and you have claws now. Your brain goes into overdrive thinking about possibilities, even ones that aren't likely, and some that may be a bit more likely." Alex drew a deep breath, "You're freaked 'cause this is something you have no idea how to quantify, or control. You're used to things being one or the other."

Hank offered him a thin smile. "Been there too, huh?"

Alex's lips quirked into a mirthless smile, "Sort of. I know my life's out of my control. It hasn't been mine to control since I was born. I'm freaked 'cause my power's just one more thing. Different reasons, same result. But we can do this. Both of us."

"Okay," Hank said softly and paused. "As much as I love you... I just sort of wanted to slap you some days when you said you couldn't do it with your powers. I just... I hate how much that made me angry at you."

"I...was being a prick. I'm sorry, Hank, I really should have seen it sooner. A _lot_ sooner."

"It's alright, you were dealing with things but... I mean," he shook his head slightly. "We'll just have to deal with them a bit better now is all."

"It's not alright," Alex responded. "We'll get the hang of this though, right?"

"Alright, then we'll get the hang of it," Hank said, finally laughing softly.

Alex grinned faintly, "What are you working on to distract you from the issue you've been avoiding for the last year and a half?"

"Um, some cells. Trying to calibrate Cerebro better."

"Think you can pull yourself away from that for the night?"

"I think I'll manage," Hank said with a thin smile.

Alex leaned over, running a hand over Hank's nearest ear, "Maybe we should go make sure Warren _wasn't_ press-ganged into making dinner? He might poison it out of spite."

"He wouldn't," Hank laughed. "But food is a good plan."

"He might," Alex repeated with a grin.

"He wouldn't!" Hank protested again. "He wants to have the dark room finished, remember? Your food he might poison but not mine."

"Great, I am doomed, as is Sean for forcing his highness to such a menial task."

"Well, you can switch plates with me in full sight of him so if he freaks we'll know not to eat it, and if he doesn't we'll assume it's safe."

Alex grinned, "I'm good with that plan."

Hank laughed again, finally rising.

Alex hopped off of the lab table, offering Hank another grin before heading out of the lab. Pausing a long moment, Hank followed him out, shutting the lab down on his way.

* * *

><p>Hey all! We just wanted to give you a heads up that this story is going to be going on hiatus for a bit. We've run into some problems with the timeline and have to completely revamp it. As such we can't really say when it will be updated again, but we do promise you an update in the not too distant future. Until that time we have a couple of other X-Men based fics. For the AlexHank fans out there we have "Pick a Little Trouble" (which includes a side of Erik/Charles) and for our Erik/Charles fans we've just started posting "The Ghost of the Chateau D'If" (which includes a side of Alex/Hank).

Thank you for reading and we'd really appreciate you letting us know what you thought. We have anonymous reviews enabled and it's been a stressful couple of weeks, reviews brighten our days and tend to wake our muses up a bit. It lets us know people are interested in the story enough for us to feel more motivated to continue it sooner.


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